The Dancing Master
by KarenDetroit
Summary: After the War, things won't get boring for Severus Snape, if Dumbledore has his way COMPLETE
1. Chapter One: The Minister of Magic Speak...

CHAPTER 1: The Minister of Magic Speaks  
  
Albus Dumbledore called the annual pre-term meeting for Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry to order. " If you will all take your seats, we have a great deal to discuss and even more to do before the Hogwarts Express arrives in two weeks."  
  
Conversations ceased as the teachers and ancillary staff members chose chairs around the U shaped conference table in the Great Hall. A bright August sun shone outside, but the stone hall was cool, and the enchanted ceiling manifested sufficient cloud cover to keep down the glare.  
  
"I want to thank Arthur Weasley, Minister of Magic, for stopping by today. He will provide us with the latest information regarding the Ministry and their efforts to mop up the last remnants of the recent struggle. Arthur?"  
  
Minister Weasley rose to polite applause. " Thank you everyone, for your efforts in preventing the Dark from eclipsing the Light. I know that many of you have devoted the past 28 years to battle on many fronts. Some of you have fought, others have guarded and trained our young against evil, and far too many have died, or seen their families depleted or destroyed by the self-proclaimed Lord Voldemort. I can say with every confidence that we can account for all but 3 Death Eaters, and that the British Isles are entirely secure. Tom Malvolo Riddle is dead, and his remains are on view at the Ministry for all to see, as are the bodies of all those Death Eaters not otherwise destroyed in the battles.  
  
"The corrupt and traitorous acts performed by certain members of the Ministry, which affected all of us, but most importantly, seriously impaired daily operations at Hogwarts, have been ameliorated, and the perpetrators are imprisoned in Askaban, awaiting trial, or undergoing rehabilitation. There will be no more Umbridges at Hogwarts, I promise you, and the Ministry charter has been so altered as to prevent such an usurpation of power in the future."  
  
Loud applause interrupted the Minister, and he raised his hands both to acknowledge the audience and to ask for calm.  
  
"So as England's Magical society recovers from the storms of war, we have much more work to do. Some of it is tedious, some of it will be heartbreakingly slow, but none of the tasks ahead are as deadly as those we have all accomplished to date. One might ask how a people accustomed to the rush and terror of war will cope with this long-desired, slower-paced, perhaps even boring time. I hope we will all find renewal and reward in the flowering of a people at peace, secure in our houses and careers, with control over our futures, and the ability to plan and complete our own projects for happiness.  
  
"Here at Hogwarts the training of the next generation of witches and wizards shall proceed under the continued guidance of your venerable Headmaster. While the immediate pressure to produce powerful and ethical graduates is lessened, the need to do so is not, and you should all continue to demand excellence in all things magical, not the least including Defense Against the Dark Arts. There have been some grievous losses among the staff, and Professor Dumbledore and his senior aides will be supporting and guiding the younger, less-experienced teachers in fulfilling the Hogwarts mandate. Your student population will include many orphaned or injured children. Hogwarts has demonstrated in the past great success in protecting, comforting, healing and guiding those afflicted youth in its care, and I am confident that you all will continue this tradition as well. There have even been great strides made in directing the traditional, and sometime destructive House rivalries into the formation of co-operative teams, encouraging cross-House marriages and the combination of individual House strengths into a stronger whole School, leading to a stronger society at large.  
  
"I want to add one more task to this daunting list. I want all of you at Hogwarts to take the next step in the search for the ultimate good. I charge you all with the task of reaching out to the non-Magical world, the Muggles with whom we share so much, and yet interact so little, to both our detriments."  
  
Loud rumbles and louder protestations threatened to bring the meeting to a stop, but Professor Dumbledore, with a Sonorous spell, called the staff to order once more.  
  
"Believe me when I say that I know I am asking a great deal of you," continued Minister Weasley. "Our ancestors suffered mightily for their magical abilities. There isn't a wizard or witch among us who hasn't several generations of persecution in the family tree, while the Muggle- born among us face such persecution daily from both sides as they cross the great divide between their two worlds, the world they were born in, and the world they were born to. But such persecution, born of fear, cannot and should not be borne any longer. The Muggle world has made great strides in reconciling the various groups composing their non-Magical society. There is peace and co-operation, and even love, growing between races and classes here and abroad. Not today, not this generation, perhaps not even the next generation of Magicals will clasp hands and sign treaties with the Muggles, but we must start now to contemplate such a future. We must learn about Muggles, their everyday lives, their technology, their history, their hopes and dreams, and find common ground, so that together we may battle for Good with a staunch ally, against any and all Evils that may yet come to be."  
  
There was a short, pregnant silence, as all seated at the table contemplated the Minister's bold vision. Then a soft measured clapping, started by Professor Dumbledore and quickly joined by Professors MacGonagall, Snape, and Sprout, grew in speed and volume as, by ones and twos, the faculty and staff of Hogwarts rose to give the new Minister of Magic a standing ovation. 


	2. Chapter Two: The Aftermath

CHAPTER 2: The Aftermath  
  
Professor MacGonagall was first to reach the Minister's side. Shaking his hand, she remarked, "Well, Arthur, you have certainly requested a new future for us. I hope you are not simply haring off after your hobby with this Muggle reconciliation plan."  
  
"I doubt that I shall have any time at all for hobbies, Professor," he replied. "Lucius Malfoy permeated the Ministry with bribes and threats. We still spend every day testing the loyalty of staffers and citizens accused of complicity with the Dark Lord. And then there are the suits for damages, reparations, and basic relief for those who have lost everything. The hospitals are overflowing still, but new cases have slowed to a trickle at least. Filling in positions left vacant by death or defection could easily take two or three years. Our losses in people were grievous: we didn't have so many people to begin with that we could afford such slaughter. The Magical world has lost 25% of its people in the past 30 years. Even with the growing influx of Muggleborns, we are losing ground. That is why rapprochement with the Muggle world is so important."  
  
"And how are things at home, Arthur? Is Molly better now?" MacGonagall's lips quivered a bit. Molly had been one of her best Prefects.  
  
"She is bearing up better, now that Percy is in rehabilitation. He is starting to respond to her, and the doctors are hopeful that he will make a full recovery. And the baby is weaving her own magic over our hearts. Bill and Fleur are flooing over every Sunday, which is a great comfort."  
  
"It's hard to believe that you are grandparents already! It seems like thirty years flew by in 10."  
  
"You will stay for luncheon, Arthur?" Dumbledore interrupted. "I know there are a million things on your plate, but a man must eat occasionally, too."  
  
"Thank you, Professor, I shall, but I must leave by 2 PM. I know you also have much to finish today, and I won't presume upon your hospitality longer."  
  
With that Professor Dumbledore announced luncheon, all returned to the table and conversations became more general.  
  
Professor Severus Snape found himself seated next to Remus Lupin, ex- werewolf, with Hermione Granger and Harry Potter across the table from them. Snape was glowering, as usual. Harry and Remus spoke about the DADA course that they would be teaching together. Hermione joined in when they turned to the Muggle studies course she and Harry would be co-teaching. They were expounding upon the course outline, arguing the finer points of which topic should precede the other, when Professor Snape cleared his throat. The three turned to him as one. Remus had a smile and an expectant look on his face. Harry was petrified by fear, and Hermione appeared impatient, as she had been the one interrupted.  
  
"I confess to nearly complete ignorance of Muggle-kind. I wonder, Miss Granger, if any thought has been given to a short course, for the staff at least, in the Muggle studies field?"  
  
A look of shock came over Hermione. Harry's face took on the smile of anticipation, while Remus looked impatient. "I recall you received an Outstanding the last time you studied Muggles, Severus," Remus said in his gentle way.  
  
"But that was 20 years ago, Lupin, and I have since been otherwise occupied. Besides, our studies then were devoted to literature and history, and not the most recent of histories, either. We did nothing with technology, past the Renaissance, at least. And history ended with the Salem witch trials, in America, no less." Snape lifted a forkful of peas and mashed potatoes to his lips.  
  
"I think that if staff members are interested in learning Muggle ways, then Harry should take the men on field trips, while I take the women. There is still too much of the Muggle world that is sexually differentiated, and keeping a low profile is complicated enough without crossing that barrier, as well." Hermione was still no slouch at grasping the larger picture. Harry's smile grew to a nearly evil grin.  
  
Snape paled a bit at the thought. "Perhaps a reading list would be the proper first step, and some recordings of modern music and culture? A field trip might wait until after some basic familiarity with the principles of modern Muggle culture was established."  
  
"But Professor, you spent years passing through the Muggle world, spying on Voldemort and dealing with my aunt and uncle and so on." Harry was trying to be fair; a field trip to Muggle London with him in charge of Severus Snape sounded like an adventure worthy of a Marauder's son.  
  
"A spy is not a cultural observer, nor does he interact with his surroundings, not if he wishes to live. He keeps a low profile, but conversely, he does not absorb much detail, nor mix with the natives, either," Snape continued. " And, if your relatives are typical of their culture, I for one do not want to know more about Muggles. Rapprochement is futile."  
  
"I think it is safe to say Harry's family is unique," said Professor Dumbledore, who had stopped to listen. "A Muggle Studies course for the staff is an excellent idea, Severus. Perhaps Miss Granger and Mister Potter would join me this evening after dinner to discuss this?"  
  
"Of course, Headmaster," said Hermione and Harry.  
  
"And perhaps we can arrange some independent studies for senior staff, Severus," Dumbledore continued.  
  
"I can hardly wait," murmured Severus Snape. 


	3. Chapter Three: Home, Sweet Hogwarts

CHAPTER 3: Home, Sweet Hogwarts  
  
The next four weeks flew by. Professors and staff worked like beavers, preparing, repairing, cleaning and discussing the changes needed for the modern Hogwarts. Many subjects were to be taught by teams of two or even three, in order to provide support and coaching to newly appointed teachers like Harry and Hermione, and relieve the burdens on the aging or injured. Professor Binns had been persuaded into a form of retirement and started a canasta club for the ghost population, which in turn provided Peeves with his true calling. As a cardsharp, Peeves found fame and respect among his peers; he was much too busy nowadays to annoy the Living. Coupled with the honor he received for his part in defending Hogwarts during the Great Siege, Peeves whole outlook on Life, or rather, Death, took a radical change for the better.  
  
One week before the students arrived, the entire Hogwarts population turned out to assist Professor Sprout in restoring the Grounds, and especially the Quidditch pitch, to its former glory. The sight of so many talents, working in concert, replanting, removing the scars of battle, and mending the outer walls, gave credence to the team approach that the Minister had prescribed. The glow of accomplishment among staffers lingered through the week, and only grew as the train arrived and the First Years were sorted into their houses. Professor Dumbledore announced a program of awarding House points to both sides in any inter-House co-operative venture.  
  
Upon Professor Snape's insistence, Hermione prepared a reading list on Muggle history, fashion and mores, arts, science and technology. She put enough titles, she thought, to guarantee that Snape would be occupied at least until Christmas holidays. Her parents assisted in arranging the purchase of many of the titles to be added to the Hogwarts library. Madame Pince spent every night reading a new book from the Muggle collection, and developed a lunchtime discussion group at the Head table. And Severus Snape, who alone continued to teach unassisted, became one of the most dedicated members of that group. Harry and Hermione would sometimes forget to eat, as they tried to suppress the giggles that threatened to erupt when their fellow teachers got bogged down in confusion over the Muggles' ways.  
  
Everything was going quite well in the fourth week of the term when Professor Dumbledore dropped in on the 7th year Potions Class. "I wonder if I might have a word with you, Professor," he said to Snape. "After class, if you please."  
  
As the last student turned in his potion work and left, Dumbledore began. "I have been observing your efforts in Muggle Studies, Severus, and of all the staff, I think you are the most prepared for a short trip into the Muggle life. Besides your recent efforts, there is your prior experience during the war to guide and protect you. I want you to spend your weekends passing as a Muggle. I want you to develop Muggle skills, cultivate Muggle acquaintances, and perhaps even find a Muggle friend or two."  
  
"Headmaster, while I am gratified that my efforts meet with your approval, I cannot in good conscience take off every weekend to pursue Muggles. I have papers to grade, potions to prepare, lab supplies to purchase, and class lessons to plan, and..."  
  
"You will have an assistant, of course, to take part of the burden from your shoulders. In addition to providing you with administrative support, this assistant will provide backup should your venture into the Muggle world necessitate a longer stay. You will not of course "go native" but you may find yourself in a situation where you cannot just Disapparate Sunday night without "blowing your cover". This is a long-term project, Professor, and of all members of the Old Families I know, you are the most fitted for infiltrating the Muggle world. The Muggle-born among us already know of that world in very fundamental ways that we do not. They are blind to many things that we need to know, but can only learn by discovery. You will be more than a spy, less than an ambassador, rather like that Marco Polo chap, an explorer. You will try to pass as a Muggle, Severus, and I know that would not be easy for anyone. You will be discreet in your use of Magic, of course, but you may use any Muggle technology that you can handle safely. You will receive funds from the Ministry, and accommodations will be provided. Harry and Hermione will go with you at first, to set you up in your pied-a-Terre, and introduce you to some options in London for assimilating and observing and interacting with Muggles. This flat will be on the Floo network, of course, give you a safe place for Disapparation, and you will be provided with an emergency portkey as well."  
  
Severus Snape silently contemplated the Headmaster's sparkling blue eyes and complacently folded hands. There was no way out of this. "Who is to be my assistant?"  
  
"If you have no objection, I will ask Hermione to provide support services in Potions. After all, you gave her the highest marks of any student you ever had. Unless you can recommend another Potions student?"  
  
The two stared at each other. Both were blocking their thoughts, Albus with ease and Severus with a sense of desperation. "I suppose Miss Granger will do, at least until the situation calls for a change. Is there anything else you would like me to do, Headmaster?"  
  
"Yes, there are two more items. First, please note that this project is a request directly from the Ministry, and my only input is to select the best candidate for the job. I trust that my confidence in your abilities is not misplaced. And secondly, I think that when we are not in formal situations, as is the case at present, you could try to call me Albus. After all, you will be Headmaster in turn one day, if you so choose, and we will be working more closely than ever at that point. And now I must meet with Miss Granger. Until dinner, then, Severus." And with a final twinkle, Dumbledore turned and left the Potions lab. 


	4. Chapter Four: In Darkest SoHo

CHAPTER 4: Into Darkest SoHo  
  
And so it came to pass that Harry and Hermione went flat-hunting with their Uncle Russ.  
  
First they created a cover story for Professor Snape, sticking as close to the facts as they could, with judicious editing for Muggle sensibilities. After several long evenings in the Hoghead, with copious drink and roars of laughter, and assistance from whichever Weasleys were in town, Harry, Hermione and Severus (they were now on first name basis, but only outside of Hogwarts) had produced a passable tale. Severus had committed it to memory and endured hours of drill in random questions designed to trip him up, usually flung at him during meals. "I expect you are paying me back for all those Occlumency lessons, Potter," he growled. But he was getting into the spirit of the thing, and regular socializing with the young people had started to break through that shell which Severus, child of a dysfunctional family, victim of schoolyard bullying, and former double agent against the Dark Lord, had grown for his own survival.  
  
Then Hermione and Harry chose a Muggle wardrobe for Snape. Hermione insisted that, although black was the most fashionable color, Severus could not have an all black wardrobe. She chose a bunch of tweeds in earth tones, sweaters, and jeans, saying it would not do for Severus to look like a gangster, Matrix addict, or Goth, not at his age. At this pronouncement, Severus began a frantic search of Muggle sociology texts. His confidence began to slip.  
  
"Trust Harry, Severus, and as far as fashion goes, always trust a woman. If Harry and Hermione are in agreement, then they are most likely correct." Albus Dumbledore was twinkling again. Severus Snape was looking dour.  
  
"But Albus, look at these clothes! I look positively shabby, like Lupin before he got a steady job.!"  
  
"Most Professors are not fashion plates, Uncle Russ. This is your daytime wear, anyway. For evening and special events, we picked out an entire other wardrobe." Hermione was fishing through boxes and bags. "Here it is! How do you like that?" She drew out a classic, elegant tuxedo, and a guide to both black-tie and the full soup-and-fish, and the occasions which might call for such splendor. In addition, they had purchased a white dinner jacket, a sporty outfit suitable for yachting, après ski clothing, and even a disco outfit. Professor Snape turned pale at this last.  
  
"I do believe you are enjoying this, Granger," he said with that sneer which until lately he had discarded.  
  
"Too right," said Harry, with that evil grin he habitually wore nowadays. "Personally, I wouldn't be caught dead in that one, Uncle Russ."  
  
"I take your word for it, Nephew," replied Snape. "That one goes back to the store, Niece."  
  
Albus just twinkled.  
  
Finding a flat was much easier. With the Ministry funds to support their search, and a crackerjack agent to assist, Hermione, Harry and Severus were able to select the perfect flat in an afternoon. It came furnished in a comfortable, classic, lived-in style, with a fine large fireplace for the Floo, an excellent pantry to set up as a potions lab, and multiple exits should the need arise. There were three bedrooms, in case guests required accommodation, modern plumbing and electrical wiring, and cable and Internet already installed. The subway was within walking distance, the trains and buses in easy reach, and several modest shops for food and other necessities in the neighborhood, operated by immigrants, could provide the basics and some protective cover. "Immigrants are doing their best to assimilate, but they aren't such critical observers that a small error on your part would uncover your foreignness, Uncle." Hermione was beginning to have her doubts about the whole project. Her Worry reflex was constantly triggered, these days. "I don't think you should bring many personal possessions here, Uncle. You might have to abandon this flat at some point in a hurry, and it might be impossible to retrieve them later. It's a good thing you have no familiar. With the Floo system, you won't need owls, either. If you like, you can telephone for meals or groceries to be delivered. I wouldn't skip that detail, unless you plan to eat out all the time. The neighbors might notice. And remember, you must always arrive first on foot, and leave at last on foot for each stay. Take a taxi to The Leaky Cauldron to return to Hogwarts. And guests who floo or Apparate must leave the same way. You must assume that some nosy old biddy is watching your every move. "  
  
"What about a House Elf? Might I bring one along to keep the place in order?" Severus was also beginning to feel anxious. He would be leaving everything familiar behind to live as an alien.  
  
"I think Dobby might be persuaded to keep house for you, Severus. Just be sure to send him back to Hogwarts during the week. I shouldn't want him here alone for days." Albus was serene, as always. Since Tom Riddle's demise, nothing bothered him. "Also, I would not use wards during the week. The Muggles have something called a burglar alarm: use that and just leave sensing spells to detect any intruders in your absence. Of course while you occupy the space, all protections are reasonable."  
  
"And there is one last step, Uncle," Harry added gleefully.  
  
Following his first haircut, Severus Snape returned to Hogwarts shaken, sullen, and convinced that Harry Potter was a true son of his Marauding father. 


	5. Chapter 5: Once More Into the Breach!

CHAPTER 5: Once More Into the Breach!  
  
"Harry, I don't care what your feelings are about Professor Snape! You cannot in good conscience let him out in the Muggle world without the proper information and advice. I have the pamphlets right here; you don't even have to discuss it, just give these to him and tell him to read them carefully."  
  
"Why don't you do it, Hermione, after all, it's your project. You've done the research: deliver the report and be done with it."  
  
"No way, Harry. Now be the dutiful nephew and tell your bewildered, cloistered uncle about Muggle sexually transmitted diseases. If you can deal the deathblow to Voldemort, you can keep Snape alive. No one deserves AIDS or hepatitis C, you know, and we have no data on whether Magical folk have any natural protections as yet. Snape saved your sorry hide many a time, since your first year at Hogwarts. You owe him."  
  
So Harry set out for the potions lab, a dutiful wizard for the right and the good, rehearsing in his head various conversational openers: "Professor, Hermione and I want you to read these pamphlets, not that we expect you to need this information," "Professor, here is the next lesson in Muggle relations," "While we do not know if Magic folk are vulnerable, we thought you should not be the guinea pig."  
  
But the potions lab was unoccupied, and Harry, in relief, was about to drop the folder on Snape's desk and flee when Professor Dumbledore entered. "Oh, there you are Harry. Looking for Professor Snape? He is consulting with Madame Pomfrey on the potions she will need over the weekend. We don't want to leave the hospital wing in the lurch while our Potions Master explores the New World. Is it something I can help you with?"  
  
With no slight embarrassment, Harry explained his assignment. Professor Dumbledore seemed to take it in stride. "Just leave those pamphlets with me, and do thank Miss Granger for her thoughtfulness. I will ensure that Professor Snape is enlightened. What is the program for this weekend's foray into Muggle London?"  
  
"Hermione and I thought we would shepherd the Professor about, practice the basics of everyday life: shopping and money transactions, research, housekeeping and cooking, travel, and the like. Next weekend we will start identifying Muggle skills that would be useful to acquire: small appliances, the telephone, maybe even driving an automobile. Although it might be better to start with a bicycle, just to practice steering and navigation."  
  
"I wonder if Miss Granger or yourself might arrange a small social event at which Professor Snape might meet a few open-minded people and develop some acquaintances."  
  
"I have no acquaintances in London, and my family has no use for Magic folk, as you know, Professor. Hermione's parents might be good for that sort of gathering, though. And we thought Professor Snape might be willing to sign up for a class or two. There are many adult education courses that can provide skills training and build a circle of Muggle acquaintances simultaneously. Or perhaps Professor Snape would prefer a University programme in a field that complements potion work. He should be able to meet scientists of a similar caliber that way, if we can figure out a way to meet the prerequisites. There are seminars all the time open to the general public, and these can lead to courses with more depth."  
  
"Those are good plans, Harry. Once Severus is oriented and able to manage on his own, he can start introducing other wizards and witches to London. But either you or Hermione will have to be available if Severus requests it. We do not want any compromising incidents. The Ministry frowns on Obliviating Muggles wholesale. Now I am sure you have pressing business to attend to. Assure Hermione that the deed will be done."  
  
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Friday night was windy, rainy and rather chilly for October. Harry, Hermione, and Severus Snape Apparated to Diagon Alley, and after a butterbeer each to warm them, they set out for Snape's flat via the Underground. The crowds of Muggles were gay, in the mood to celebrate the start of the weekend, and pushcarts selling flowers, foods, and tourist trinkets added to the confusion. "Where is everyone going?" The number of people milling about overwhelmed Snape.  
  
"Those in fancy dress are headed for the theatres, most likely, or for the better restaurants and clubs. The ones in jumpers and trainers are going to more casual events, sports or pubs and so on. Those in suits are probably just finally heading home." Hermione had one arm linked in Harry's, the other in Snape's. As the smallest, she was in danger of being separated by the flow of humanity. The din was oppressive, Snape thought, and he was touched that Granger sought his protection. He felt his wand in his jacket pocket; it was still there. While a Death Eater attack was unlikely, Snape had been too many years a spy to drop his guard. He observed carefully how one bought a fare on the Underground, entered the car, found a seat or a handhold, and especially how people avoided staring at each other. The three rode silently, Harry and Hermione occasionally casting knowing looks at each other over their erstwhile professor's head. They felt rather like fond parents taking their child on an excursion.  
  
This was an entirely different kind of adventure for Harry, and he was beginning to enjoy the chance to explore the greatest city in Britain. "We'll have to try out a few of those nightspots, Uncle," he said. "And perhaps we can go to a rugby match, if you would like to see some sport."  
  
"I would like to go to the Pantomime this Christmas," said Hermione. "And of course, we must take in the Savoyards, and the British Museum. I have always wanted to see the Sherlock Holmes locations, but I never had the time."  
  
"I would like to know how to reach the Ministry," said Snape. "In the event I am not able to arrive by the usual means."  
  
"I've only been there by threstral," said Hermione.  
  
"I've gone by Underground from Headquarters," said Harry. "I can show you tomorrow. And we should buy some maps."  
  
With the usual clatter, the train pulled into their station. "Here we are, Uncle. Nearly home."  
  
As the trio climbed the steps to the flat, they discussed street safety and the rules for pedestrians. Once inside, Hermione switched on the computer and logged in to the Internet. "Harry, how much do you know about computers?"  
  
"I have visited chat rooms, and played Poppit. And I have seen the Dating sites."  
  
Hermione gave him a severe look. "Very useful, I'm sure. Professor, let me show you how to Google."  
  
They spent the evening exploring the Web, setting up a Hotmail account for Snape, and one for Harry, as well. With Hermione dropping ever stronger hints, Harry agreed to release the terminal to Snape and go to bed. Severus savoured the peace that descended as the young ones turned in. He set wards on the flat, and started to surf the Muggle world. 


	6. Chapter 6: Severus Unbound

CHAPTER 6: Severus Unbound  
  
It was a bright and breezy morning outside when Hermione awoke and bestirred herself. After a wash and a brush, and a bit of Muggle makeup for camouflage, she entered the sitting room to find Severus, still in yesterday's bedraggled garb, hunting and pecking at the keyboard. "Didn't you sleep at all, Professor?"  
  
"Miss Granger, you would not believe the rubbish these Muggles believe about Magic and wizardry! And the nonsense about Druids is enough to call down the Ancient Gods' wrath. Look at this page.and this!" Severus pulled up various pages he had stockpiled on the desktop.  
  
"Severus, don't believe everything you see on the Web. Some of it is factual, but most of it is fictional, and nearly all of it is slanted to support one point of view or the other. Then there is the totally delusional segment, like that one." And she pointed at the Quizilla site. "What did it say your magic power is?"  
  
"I got an error message, something about my computer not set up correctly. What time is it?" Severus blinked and rubbed his face.  
  
"Eight-thirty. Time to get some breakfast. I'll wake Harry while you freshen up."  
  
"What kind of costume am I wearing for breakfast, then?" Severus was not fond of any of the ensembles Hermione and Harry had picked out, but he figured that after a few days of orientation, he could go select his own.  
  
"A sweater and denims and those trainers we got you will do." Hermione knocked briskly on the second guest room. "Harry, get up! We're going out for breakfast."  
  
"You'll make somebody a fine wife, Hermione," said Severus under his breath, as he struggled with the bathroom fixtures in his home away from Hogwarts.  
  
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After a filling if somewhat greasy English fried breakfast, the three set out to purchase comestibles to stock up the kitchen. "Remember that any perishable food will need to be eaten within a week, or frozen. Meats will only last 3 to 5 days under refrigeration. I am choosing mostly staples that can last for months without any special treatment. Do you have any preferences, Uncle? Do you know how to operate a can opener?" Hermione bit her lip. This was more difficult than she had imagined in her worst-case scenario. How much did Professor Snape need to know, and how much could he retain? How could someone who had every wish instantly satisfied by House Elves and his own magical abilities not be helpless in everyday Muggle life? Hermione wanted to make Severus' Muggle weekends useful, pleasurable, and painless. She also wanted to get out of the minder job as quickly as possible. She had her own life to construct, now that the exigencies of the War against Voldemort were over. Food poisoning, traffic accidents, mugging: there were endless possible bad outcomes to anticipate and prevent.  
  
"We do not have to achieve perfection the first time, Hermione. It appears that shopping is a major Muggle activity, and I have sufficient funds to make a few mistakes without suffering unduly." Severus was touched by her concern. He was fascinated by both the endless variety and the basic similarity in the goods for sale and the shops that offered them. From the pushcart and the vegetable stand, to Harrods, every conceivable item in every conceivable price range and quality was for sale or rent, including people, he noticed. He marked purveyors of particular interest on his copy of the city map to revisit on his own, later. "Now, shall we take all these goods back to the flat, before our arms fall off?" Both he and Harry were loaded like beasts of burden, and having trouble passing through doorways.  
  
********************************************************  
  
Back at the flat, Severus and Harry watched a rugby game on the telly while Hermione stored the groceries in the kitchen. "Bother it," she said, and with a bit of magic, she whipped up a hot and satisfying lunch. Harry was demonstrating the use of the remote control as she brought in the soup and sandwiches. "That reminds we, Severus, I want to show you how to telephone my parents. I will be staying with them tonight. It's my parents' anniversary and we are going out to celebrate."  
  
"But Hermione, I was going to the Burrow tomorrow! Ron is coming home for a few days, and I have to be back at Hogwarts early Monday." Harry was not willing to baby-sit the potions professor by himself.  
  
"Stay calm, Potter. I will be able to look after myself. Both of you go on and do not worry." Severus was amused by the young wizard's panic, the witch's disapproving frown. Perhaps Potter was getting some insight into the unending responsibilities that Hogwarts teachers bore for ten months of the year, especially involving those students raised by Muggles, who found their powers too tempting at times, and who made easy prey for the Old families' offspring. "Besides, I am planning on napping, to make up for that all-night session online."  
  
"Better be careful, Severus. The Internet can be addictive. Although it isn't high technology, I have arranged for various Sunday newspapers to be delivered to your door tomorrow morning. Next weekend we can go to the library. Even with the Web, books are still important sources of information." Hermione checked her watch. "I had best be off, then. I shall meet you both back at Hogwarts Monday." She grabbed her bag and left for the Underground station.  
  
"And if you are very good, we can go to the zoo," muttered Harry. He took the dishes back to the kitchen, and in a furtive fashion, whipped out his wand to clear up the mess magically. He returned to the sitting room, to find Severus had turned off the television and turned on the computer. "Right, I'll be at the Burrow, and you can Floo me there if you need anything. Have fun, Uncle!" And with a cheerio, Harry was out the door and on his way to the Leaky Cauldron to Disapparate.  
  
Severus Snape hardly noticed. "I wonder if there are any potions ingredient suppliers with websites?" he muttered, as he pecked his way across the keyboard. 


	7. Chapter 7: A Random Walk Down Charing Cr...

CHAPTER 7-A Random Walk Down Charing Cross Road  
  
When his eyes began to blur, Severus Snape logged off and lay down for a nap. His mind filled with flickering screens and street scenes as his brain reviewed all the novel information he had gathered in less than a day. With the end of the Dark Lord's reign of terror, Snape had permitted his unconscious mind to dream again.  
  
But his rest was repeatedly interrupted by street noise. Traffic and raucous pedestrians periodically broke into his awareness. It was twilight when Snape gave up trying to rest and decided to take the air. He studied the people on the street, how they were dressed, decided he could pass for Muggle in a tweed suit, took up the flat key, and went on a walkabout.  
  
The first Muggle he encountered was a shabby man begging for money outside his building. Using his best student-quelling glare, Snape swept past him, clutching his wand in his pocket. Undeterred, the beggar followed Snape, taunting him in an accent so foul that Snape had no notion of the insult being rendered, though he thought it was English of some sort.  
  
Marking his path on the map he downloaded from Streetmap.co.uk, Severus reconnoitered his local neighborhood. With the approaching darkness, the whole character of the shops and the crowds had changed from shoppers and tourists to something a little more edgy and sinister. There were now numerous brightly lit establishments advertising sex in one form or another. Snape regretted not reading those pamphlets Albus had given him and resolved to study them carefully when he returned. Not that he had any intention of shopping, but he did wish to further his understanding of the local Muggles. He didn't venture down Knockturne Alley unprepared, and this part of town was beginning to resemble that one. Perhaps Hermione was not overreacting.  
  
Across the street was a decent looking place, a bistro where he could try his restaurant knowledge. As he entered, the maitre d approached. "One for dinner, Monsieur?" Pausing only a heartbeat, Severus responded, "Oui." He was escorted to a small table in a darker corner, which suited him quite well. Severus thanked the waiter far too warmly for such an inferior table, and then sat with his back to the wall and his face in shadow. Old habits are hard to change, he mused, as he perused the menu. Ordering sole a la meuniere and a salad, and a bottle of pinot grigio to drink, Severus found that serving the Ministry could be quite rewarding, indeed. When the waiter presented his bill, though, Severus realized that he had neglected to bring his wallet. He escaped to the men's lavatory, Apparated to the flat, returned with his Visa card, paid the bill, and left, feeling smugly successful at covering his error.  
  
Feeling replete and quite mellow, Severus continued his meandering path, and eventually found himself outside the Rex Cinema. The place seemed quietly stylish, and the throngs on the street were beginning to irritate him, so Severus stepped inside. The membership fee seemed a bit steep, but once inside, he felt the money well spent. Aside from the abundance of red in the décor, Severus felt quite comfortable.  
  
But then the film started. Severus had wandered into a performance of Bram Stoker's "Dracula". Alternating between fury, hysterical laughter, and fear for the poor Muggles around him, Severus sat on the edge of his seat, appalled and fascinated by this vision of horror. Stunned and shaken, Severus left the cinema, after a couple of swift drinks at the Art Deco bar. Perhaps Hermione could explain this. No, better not to mention it to a young woman just out of school, no matter how mature she acts. I know no one who could understand what I have seen, Severus realized. 


	8. Chapter 8: One Is the Loneliest Number

Chapter 8: One Is the Loneliest Number  
  
After a night of tossing and turning, in spite of the Silencing Charm with which he insulated the flat, Severus rose with the dawn, determined to have it out with Dumbledore. After deciding he was too cranky to floo, Snape sent a politely written invitation suggesting that the Headmaster come down to London and tour the arrangements and stay for lunch and conversation. Albus Dumbledore cordially wrote back that he would be Apparating at 1 pm.  
  
So with tea and scones and the Sunday newspapers Hermione had procured for him, Severus began to catch up on the Outside world. He read of the politics, economics, arts and fashions. He read the advertisements for clothing, cars, and personal ads. He took notes, preparing for this meeting with the Headmaster as if for the most rigorous of oral examinations. Then he prepared a luncheon, using magic for the most part, including Albus' favorite cucumber sandwiches.  
  
"Well, Severus, this is a comfortable little flat you have set up." The Headmaster had examined the accommodations in every detail, including the magical ones. "Quite domestic. This luncheon looks delicious." They sat at the tea table on amply cushioned wing-backed chairs before the fire that Severus had ignited after Dumbledore's arrival, and Dumbledore proceeded to steadily consume more than half of the fare, while Severus made only a half- hearted attempt at eating.  
  
"Headmaster, I realize that 24 hours are not sufficient to make a complete study of the Muggle world, but I have some general observations that must be figured into this project in order that time and resources are not squandered. I would like to give you a brief report, before anyone decides the next steps to take."  
  
"Very well Severus, what have you observed?" Dumbledore dabbed at the corners of his mouth politely and leaned back in the winged chair. Severus gave a detailed report on his actions of the previous day. Then he summarized his observations:  
  
"The Muggle world is dominated by the buying and selling of everything: goods, services, power and influence, even sex. If that were the only interaction between Muggles, we might be able to arrange some trade, if we had need for any of their goods and services. But there is a major flaw in this system. Those who have nothing to sell cannot buy, and either resort to begging, or violence, or merely die, especially the weakest among them. The means for self-sufficiency do not exist for most Muggles. Still other Muggles, rather like Dark wizards, resort to violence as an abuse of power. I do not think there is anything we can learn from this culture that is worth knowing, except perhaps how to protect ourselves in the event they become aware of us, and decide we are a threat or a source of ill-gotten gain. They have tremendous powers of destruction, global and crude. I cannot imagine forming any kind of alliance with Muggles." Severus was pacing the floor in his agitation, running a hand through his neatly trimmed, still unfamiliar new hairstyle.  
  
"Whereas the Magical world is all sweetness and harmony?" Albus Dumbledore was not twinkling now. "The temptation to abuse power is on both sides: Muggle and Magical. We have a code of laws and a code duello, and a strong social structure to enforce them both. And yet Cornelius Fudge in his madness was prepared to dismantle all of it in his own lust for power. A lot of people died to stop both Voldemort and Fudge. Although Fudge only tried to kill public spirit with his abusive decrees, he was more of a danger to us all than Voldemort. Voldemort tortured and killed and corrupted the susceptible; Fudge sought to deform, disarm, disable and deflect all of us from living self-sufficient and useful lives and from fighting Voldemort, while he himself ignored the threat Voldemort posed to his puny power-mad goals."  
  
"Severus, you are the first in a series of explorers. We are in the first stages of identifying, contacting and negotiating with those Muggles who are against destruction, who work for a better world. We seek the teachers, the healers, and the leaders who work to mend the hurts in their society, to learn what they already know about such mending, and share with them what we know. You must look in the quiet corners of Muggle life where people are pursuing knowledge, skills, and social connections. Start small. Find a few groups that appear to be functional and worthy of contact, that do good works, or merely avoid doing bad works. Talk to Hermione, she has a list of possible starting points."  
  
"Now, what are your plans for this evening?"  
  
Severus felt drained by recounting the horrors he had seen and by the magnitude of the project he had been selected to start. "I think I had best return to Hogwarts so I can get one good night's sleep. I am unaccustomed to the level of noise from the traffic in the street. I should also prepare for Monday's classes." He sighed. "It is no small task, Albus. I will consult with Granger to plan for the next weekend. I hope no one is expecting instant results."  
  
"Of course not," Dumbledore was twinkling again. "One thing, though. Do try to have some fun while you are here in London. That may be your best guide to the kind of people we are trying to reach. Consider it a vacation opportunity. The restaurant and the cinema were good starts, even if the particular performance you saw was so offensive that you could not enjoy it." He rose. "Before I go, could you show me this Internet computer thing you were describing? Young Ethan Smythe was describing a Muggle game called Magic that he played before he got his Hogwarts letter. It sounded very interesting." 


	9. Chapter 9: The Journey Begins With A Si...

Chapter 9: The Journey Begins With A Single Step  
  
After his unsettling baptism in the reality of Muggle London, Severus Snape reverted to the paranoia of his spying days. When Professor Dumbledore finally left off with his computer game and returned to Hogwarts, Snape set an Intruder Alert ward, as well as carefully securing the door to his flat and setting the burglar alarm, even though Albus had felt it unnecessary. He also walked to the Leaky Cauldron, partly to clear his mind, partly to avoid any taxi driver noticing his movements. He then traveled by Floo from The Leaky Cauldron to home. Returning rather late to Hogwarts, he slipped through the shadows to avoid anyone's noticing his Muggle attire, and glided down the staircase towards his apartments.  
  
It felt good to sleep in his own bed, in the cool and quiet and dark dungeon rooms, surrounded by his books and the familiar furnishings. And the familiar sight of Breakfast in the Great Hall nearly brought tears to his eyes. Professor McGonagall asked him if he were feeling quite well, after he greeted her with a cheery voice and a sincere, non-smirking smile. The other staff members at the Head Table exchanged puzzled and worried glances, while Madame Pomfret discreetly cast A Diagnostic Charm his way. But he reverted to his usual manner halfway through the first class of the day: Potions for First Years: a double session with Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff students. Two melted cauldrons later, and Snape was back in form. He was practically snarling as he returned to the Great Hall for lunch, where he encountered Hermione. "Miss Granger, we have to put some more thought into this project. Kindly meet me in the Potions Lab after classes today."  
  
Snape was grading papers with venom and red ink when Hermione finally entered the Potions Lab. "Miss Granger, the Headmaster believes that despite my initial report on the state of the Muggle world, there are some individuals and groups that we Magicals should identify, contact, and cultivate. He suggested small steps."  
  
"I had discussed our project with my parents Sunday afternoon, sir, and they came up with a few suggestions for basic skills for blending in with Muggles, and some ideas about how to acquire them." Hermione pulled a large bound paper notebook from her satchel. "The list starts with basic small motor skills: using a ball point pen, calculator, paper, telephone, keyboard, and the like, then basic large motor skills: bicycling, skating, skiing, perhaps tennis or a team sport. It isn't necessary to develop proficiency, you know, just a basic familiarity so that one can handle a conversation and any chance encounters with the tasks. We can work on many of the smaller tasks here during the week, and then weekends can be devoted to more complex technology and group skills: driving, dancing, any kind of art you may fancy, tourism to become conversant on London's main features and its neighborhoods and subgroups. The third step would be to interact with groups: social, educational, and even political. I found out that although few witches and wizards vote, there is nothing preventing us from doing so, except unfamiliarity with the process and the issues. We are native-born citizens and our births and residences can all be documented, even if they are unplottable."  
  
"Well, then, if our goal is to rule the earth, perhaps we had better get started this evening, after dinner. Would you please bring Mr. Potter and any of the paraphernalia required? I should like to be prepared for Friday night. The sooner this task is finished, the sooner I can retire into the obscurity of Hogwarts." Severus stared thoughtfully at the door after Hermione left, imagining the enfranchisement of witch and wizard in the larger politics of the world. "It would be a return to Camelot," he mused. "And no doubt, sex would be its downfall yet again." 


	10. Chapter 10: Battle Stations!

Chapter 10: Battle Stations!  
  
"I don't see why the Professor has to touch type, Hermione," Harry Potter commented. "Most men use the hunt and peck method, even computer geeks."  
  
"The Professor is not most men, and the truly professional ones do learn the basics, or they would never get anything done. Very few businesses or schools have secretaries nowadays. It's every man for himself. That reminds me, Professor, do you want to learn how to make coffee? There is a machine in the flat; it's quite simple, really. If you should have guests, you might be called upon to cook in front of Muggles. I'll just add cooking to the list, shall I?"  
  
"Miss Granger, I think I shall concentrate my efforts on finding a girlfriend. She can handle all these mundane tasks while I get on with the diplomatic end of the job." Severus was massaging the cramps out of his long, slender, ink-stained fingers. "I think I am sufficiently accustomed to the ball point pen. What happens when the ink supply runs out?"  
  
Both Harry and Hermione were staring at Severus with bemused expressions. "A girlfriend?" they chorused.  
  
"Merlin's beard! That was a meant as a joke. Surely you don't think I have time for that as well?" Severus was alarmed by the delighted looks he got.  
  
"I don't know, Professor," replied Harry. "A lady friend would save a tremendous amount of time for both you and us. She could introduce you to Muggle culture, and guide you through first meetings and such. She might even have a car and teach you how to drive!" Neither Harry nor Hermione had vehicles, and Harry himself had no driver's license.  
  
"And you will need a dancing partner; most schools require couples." Hermione tapped her teeth with her quill thoughtfully. "My mother mentioned a ballroom school that doesn't, it is called Mr. Wonderful, and it organizes classes all around London. I think that would be the best place to start. Harry, you should also go and learn to dance. Your performance at the Yule Ball was unforgivable!  
  
"There is another company called Into the Blue, they are well known for their small cooking classes. I think we could set up both of these activities this weekend. The driving lessons will have to wait until you can master the bicycle, though. Professor Dumbledore is having one sent by Floo System. It should be here tomorrow, along with some protective gear."  
  
"Protective gear?" Snape looked a bit paler than usual. "What am I to be protected from?"  
  
"Scrapes and crashes, nothing major. Most people learn to bicycle when they are children, and very flexible. They are also closer to the ground, and heal faster." Harry was grinning that evil grin again. "I'll be your instructor. We'll have you competing in the Tour de France in no time!"  
  
"Very well, but if you will answer my first question: what does one do when the ink supply in the ball point pen is exhausted?" Severus was feeling rather exhausted himself.  
  
"Well, unless it is one of those expensive luxury pens, one discards it and buys another."  
  
"That seems to sum up Muggle culture nicely," grumbled Severus. And he started in on mastering the calculator.  
  
Classes were over for the week when Hermione and Harry met up with the Professor in the Potions Lab on Friday afternoon.  
  
" I called and set up classes for you at both the dancing and the cooking schools. Here are the times and addresses. You need to wear flexible shoes for dancing; these should do. The cooking class will probably offer to sell you aprons and toques and cookbooks; most of these items will be optional. You have some currency, Professor?" Hermione was in full efficiency mode. "That should be plenty. I recommend you take taxis the first time you go anywhere new, so that you can evaluate the neighborhood. We don't want you to be mugged, after all."  
  
"What is 'mugged', Miss Granger?" Severus was studying his class schedule.  
  
"Physically attacked and either injured or robbed, or both." Hermione handed him two small plasticized cards. "Keep this card in your wallet, and this second copy in a pocket not holding your wallet. It will provide people with information on how to contact us for help, in the event you cannot speak for yourself." Hermione's eyes brimmed with tears. "Please be careful, Professor. I know that in a pinch, you can use your wand and fight off all comers, then Obliviate the witnesses, but I will never forgive myself if you come to harm." She hugged him, kissed his cheek, and then retreated to the loo to compose herself.  
  
"I think in her mind you really are an uncle, Uncle," Harry cleared his throat. "Don't mind Hermione, she worries about everything. I suggest we buy you a mobile telephone; it is the latest Muggle technology and quite a useful device to have. Lots of people have saved lives with them, either their own, or other people's."  
  
"If it will keep me from being mugged by Muggles," muttered Severus. "I wonder: is only a coincidence? The words are too much alike for chance." 


	11. Chapter 11: London still Swings

Chapter 11: London Still Swings  
  
The three Magic folk apparated to the Leaky Cauldron and hailed a taxi. After procuring a mobile phone and instructing their dear Uncle Russ on its operation, Harry and Hermione went their separate ways, and Severus proceeded to his first ballroom dance class.  
  
The taxi took him to a rather shabby hall in the vicinity of Kent. Severus paid off the cab, and even included a tip. He was feeling rather debonair, a man of the world. This Muggle business was beginning to grow on him. He climbed the steps and entered a brightly lit ballroom. A score of Muggles stood about: some in chattering clumps, others in solitary silence; and most of them seemed several decades older than he.  
  
An officious woman with a list took his name and greeted him, gave him a sticky name tag that said, "Hi, my name is Russ!" and pointed out the instructors for the evening. Severus drifted to one side of the room, where the quieter people stood. He was almost directly approached by a lady with a grand manner, easily twice his age.  
  
"So nice to see a younger face!" Her manner was both warm and regal, and she held out a well-cared-for hand to Severus. "You remind me of one of my grandsons. His name is Russell, too. How do you do? I am Francesca Oldham, but everyone calls me Fanny. Have you danced before?"  
  
"Only as a youth at family gatherings. But you are far too young to be my grandmother, madam, too young to be my mother, in fact," and Severus kissed her hand in his best courtly manner. A surrogate mother would be even better than a girlfriend for his purposes. Fanny resembled the managing Hermione in many aspects. His one grandmother had all the warmth of the Greenland icepack; he had never met his other grandmother, but her reputation as a shrew was legendary. Fanny might make a nice change.  
  
"You shameless flatterer! Well, if we are nearly contemporaneous in age, you simply must call me Fanny." Francesca wasn't one to pass up an opportunity when one was handed to her. "And I expect you to partner me for this lesson. After all, I have some experience in the waltz. Unless you have a partner already?"  
  
"No, Fanny, I am solo tonight. I didn't wish to inflict my inexperience on a date," Severus was practically swimming in the butter now.  
  
"How lucky for both of us! But here we go. The accompanist is here at last."  
  
Fortunately Severus was familiar with the basics of the waltz, and quickly developed some dash and technique as his memory was refreshed. Fanny was an excellent dancer, and she complimented him on his quick learning after the hour was up. "You should stay for the next class, Russ, it is for Intermediate students. You should have no trouble keeping up."  
  
"I will if you will, Fanny. May I fetch you a cold drink?" As Severus and she turned towards the refreshment table, a woman in a forest green dress designed for the waltz entered the ballroom. Neither young nor old, she seemed about of an age with the Potions Master, a fact that didn't escape Fanny's attention. A gentleman of Fanny's generation greeted her with a hearty, "Well met, Rose! How are you this evening?"  
  
"I think I should like to introduce you to my husband, Russ." Fanny was either adept at concealing jealousy, or more devious than Severus at his best. "Aidan, come meet young Russell."  
  
The gentleman came over, with Rose on his arm. "Fanny, look who is here!"  
  
"Good evening, Rose. I wondered where you were, Aidan. I would like to present Russ, who came for the beginners class, but he is much too advanced for it." The men shook hands. "I have pressed him to stay, but he requires a partner, and Aidan and I have a prior engagement. Perhaps you could take over for me, Rose?"  
  
Rose regarded Fanny with a half smile. "I am willing, if Russ is able to survive two classes in a row." She held out her hand to Severus, who gently clasped it and let go.  
  
Severus was feeling outmaneuvered. He had forgotten the tendency of mothers, surrogate or otherwise, to set about like Noah, pairing off young people two by two. Well, he had successfully evaded all previous attempts. He could do the pretty for an hour. After all, she had excellent color sense, having dressed in Slytherin green; she was not repulsive to look at and she spoke in a melodious voice, although her accent was a bit unusual. The night was young, his blood rushing with unaccustomed exercise, the lights sparkling in the mirrors and the crowd congenial. "The pleasure is mine, Miss Rose." 


	12. Chapter 12: May I Have This Dance?

Chapter 12: May I Have This Dance?  
  
"I hope you don't mind Mrs. Oldham, Russ," Rose began. "She and her husband have scouted every class every week these past three months to fix me up with an eligible bachelor. They are so happily married, they feel everyone else could and should be, as well. If what they would have me believe is true, they have an enviable record as matchmakers. But I have an unenviable record in marriage mistakes, and no desire to repeat them, or to find new ones. If you would rather not dance, please don't feel obliged. I have managed fine so far on my own."  
  
"I will be delighted to dance with you, Rose, for the sake of my given word, and let all notions of deeper involvements be banished from our minds. I believe the class is beginning." Severus led her to the starting point indicated by the instructor. "Besides, I would not qualify as an eligible bachelor."  
  
Rose was very silent as the class proceeded. Her powers of concentration were formidable, and her sense of rhythm and timing impeccable. Severus found that he was actually enjoying dancing for the first time in his life. He made a mental note to return next week in the Intermediate class. At intermission he fetched Rose a cold drink and wiped his brow with a napkin from the refreshment table. "I have a confession to make," Severus began. "I wanted to give this class a try, and if I found it unsatisfying, I planned to drop it and try something else. But I have had such skilled partners tonight that I plan to continue. I wonder if you would oblige me by partnering with me next week?"  
  
"Well, sir, you haven't once stepped on my foot, either. I am not sure you need any more lessons on the waltz. It is a good class, though. Next week is the foxtrot, I believe." Rose was glowing with exertion, as well, and the scent of roses surrounded her. "I have never tried that dance before."  
  
"Neither have I," replied Severus. "Does the dance change every week, then?"  
  
"The instructor leads where his fancy takes him, and at a speed that the class can handle. The last class in every month is a review of all the preceding lessons, as if one were at a real dance. This group has only just started, so in four weeks we have a Halloween dance in costume, no less. Next month we start Latin dances. I'm especially looking forward to those." Rose blotted her brow. "Do you wish to change partners at intermission?"  
  
"If you have a previous commitment, I will not keep you from it." Severus was puzzled. What had he done wrong that she would be pushing him away at every opportunity? Not that he desperately wanted to stay, but he did not particularly want to leave, either. Albus had said he should make friends. To go now would most likely scotch any friendship he might cultivate with Rose and the Oldhams. "But if you could from the kindness of your heart continue with me, I am sure both your progress and mine would be assured. You are not too tired, I trust?"  
  
Rose stared into her empty glass. "I agree that we are well matched on the dance floor. I am not too tired to continue, and I do not have any commitments to other partners. So I will be glad to follow your lead tonight and next week." She raised her eyes to stare at him, with a rather defiant look on her face.  
  
"Thank you, Rose," Severus replied. "I came in hopes of making friends. I am newly arrived in London, and just learning my way around."  
  
"I've been here three years now. If you need a guide, I know where all the tourist sights are to be found." Rose chuckled. "Although I have yet to actually visit any of them."  
  
"And why is that?" Severus was amazed at himself. Here he is, chatting up a girl as if it were the most natural thing in the world to do!  
  
"I have been working extra hours to build up my business. It is finally starting to develop momentum and so I am able to take a class or see a film now and then."  
  
"What line of work are you in?"  
  
"I design and build self-sufficient houses," Rose made a moue. "I don't suppose you know what that means?"  
  
"Perhaps you would explain it to me," Severus felt a prickle, as if a True Seeing were taking place before him.  
  
"Most houses are built any old way, and as a result they are very inefficient. They require supplemental heating, cooling, and lighting nearly all the time and waste a lot of water, too. My self-sufficient houses are designed so that any energy that touches them is utilized, any water is collected and stored and used wisely, so that comfort is built into the building, not piped in from outside. As a result, the homeowners find that their costs are much lower than in a standard dwelling, and the maintenance and housekeeping efforts are also greatly reduced. The need for furniture is also minimized with lots of built in storage, and I often include moveable walls so that the floor plan can be altered, as the family's needs change. My houses are also quiet, highly burglar-proof, fire- proof, and sited to prevent the possibility of flooding, so insurance costs are reduced." Rose was suddenly quite straight and proud, more confident, more commanding. The transformation was astounding.  
  
"This is quite a revolutionary idea, Rose. How did you come by it?"  
  
"When I was at University in America, it was the time of the Oil Embargo. Suddenly everyone was worrying about energy efficiency and funding research. I just happened to be in the right place at the right time. Of course as soon as the crisis was declared over, the funding for energy- saving devices and designs dried up. But there are enough true believers to keep the knowledge alive and the design and applications going. It isn't easy. That's why I came to England."  
  
"So you are American! I wondered at your accent. There's just the faintest trace of something." Severus could not believe his luck. Here was another immigrant who would likely overlook any slips he might make in his undercover role.  
  
"Nowadays my family accuses me of going native, they say I've lost my midwestern twang entirely." Rose laughed. "I always had an ear for languages, probably the musical training."  
  
"If it wouldn't be too much trouble, could you show me one of these self-sufficient buildings someday?" Severus asked. "I find the whole concept fascinating."  
  
"If you like. I see that intermission is over. May I have this dance?" And Rose let him lead her back to the dance floor. As they practiced turns, she suddenly said, "All right now, it is your turn, Russ. Tell me of your work. What do you do for a living?" She looked him straight in the eye, and Severus found her gaze so challenging that he automatically engaged in Occlumency just as he had when lying to Voldemort in his spying days.  
  
"I teach Chemistry at a small private school in the north, and conduct research as well. I recently inherited a flat in London, so I have been coming down on weekends to explore the big city."  
  
"What is your field of research?"  
  
"I work in pharmaceuticals, but nothing that would lead to a Nobel. I look for cures for various obscure, orphan diseases, and the royalties and credit goes to the school."  
  
"Have you any familiarity with autism?"  
  
"No, I'm afraid not. Is this something that interests you?"  
  
"Yes." Rose was again quite silent, and Severus decided to do some  
research on this topic which was completely new to him, and not  
question her further. She was obviously upset.  
  
With the end of the class, both again wiped their faces. The room had  
grown quite warm with all the couples whirling about. Severus  
retrieved his topcoat and draped it like his wizard's robes over his  
shoulders. "I am hungry. Have you had dinner, Rose? Do you know of any  
good restaurants nearby?"  
  
"There's a pub just a short walk from here. The food is good, and the  
beer is excellent. I could eat, too, now that you mention it." Rose  
had collected her coat and put it on. "Do you mind walking? I'd like  
the chance to cool down a bit."  
  
After hot and crunchy fish and chips and cool, smooth lager were  
set before them, Severus and Rose tried to chat, but it was hard  
going. Severus was woefully ignorant of Muggle culture, arts, and  
history, whether American or British. So he retold some tales of his  
classroom experiences, severely edited for non-Magical ears. Exploding  
cauldrons were transformed into small fires and exploding beakers. He  
described the House system, although the nature of the Sorting Test  
was omitted, so that Rose assumed some sort of paper and pencil  
psychological assessment was used, instead of Gryffindor's old  
bewitched hat. She was able to respond with her memories of Muggle  
classrooms from her youth. This led to a discussion of the ordering of  
society on both sides of the Atlantic, and of American politics and  
current events, on which Rose had many strong opinions, so Severus  
could sit back and listen and make a list of all the topics he would  
later need to research. To Severus' amazement, after dinner Rose  
attempted to pay for her food.  
  
"This was my idea, Rose, and you are very kind to keep me  
company. I feel rather like a stranger in my own country at times.  
Allow me." Severus felt that he was the host, and obliged to fulfill  
the duties of hospitality. Was this an American custom, that people  
hold each other at arms length? He decided this was something he would  
have to ask Hermione about. He was feeling more than a bit of culture  
shock, what with all the novelty of the evening.  
  
"Very well, but next time you shall be my guest, Russ." Rose  
seemed a bit embarrassed, uncomfortable. Where had this man been all  
his life? Had Feminism bypassed the North Country? Had she given  
offense? And what came next? How does one say "goodnight" to an  
ineligible, maybe bachelor?  
  
"I'm taking a taxi back to London. Did you drive yourself here?"  
Severus was proud to be able to formulate the thought, and to probe to  
see if this woman had a car and knew how to operate it.  
  
"I came by cab, too. I get too tired from dancing to drive, and  
it gets so dark." Rose thought to suggest sharing a cab, then thought  
that perhaps they had had enough of each other. Besides, she was not  
sure she wished to reveal her address. If there was one thing she had  
learned in the past 40 years, it was caution regarding men. Any  
chemist was probably perfectly capable of whipping up some date rape  
drug blindfold.  
  
"Well then, I propose that we share a cab. If you like, you can pay the fare, and cover your portion of the costs of the evening that way."  
  
Well, that would work, thought Rose. I can find out where he lives, uphold principles and preserve my privacy. She acquiesced, and they set out for London. Rose frantically rummaged through her stockpile of conversation, seeking something sufficiently stimulating, not personal or probing, to occupy the trip back to London.  
  
"Have you seen any good movies lately, Russ?" 


	13. Chapter 13: Hot to Trot

Chapter 13: Hot To Trot  
  
Saturday Severus decided to call Hermione and Harry in to consult. He wanted to find clothes more suited to ballroom dancing, rehash the whole previous evening, and catch up on the research that he was assigning himself.  
  
"It was very strange. She wanted to pay for her own meal, Why was that? I suggested the activity, and nearly begged her for help finding a suitable spot. She did me a great favor."  
  
"Hermione, come over here and translate for the Professor. If you want to know what women are thinking, 'Uncle', Hermione is the one to ask." Harry depended on Hermione still to clarify the womanly mysteries, since he never had any family of his own to help bridge the gender gap.  
  
"This is a topic that would require more time than we have, Professor. I will draw up a program of studies for you on Feminism since 1960, and its roots in the Civil Rights Movement in the United States, the Suffragist in the previous century; in fact, an overview of the history of the American political developments since European colonization would be a good idea, especially if you are keeping company with an ex-pat." Hermione started drawing up a reading list. "I will bring over some titles from my own collection. But we must take you over to the British Library at Saint Pancras in Eustace Road and familiarize you with it. You are not asking simple questions, and there is a lot of background to cover." She sighed. "In a way, I wish I had been born into the Magical world. There are few rigid roles for witches and wizards. Muggles don't even have sports that permit men and women on the same teams, although there is an occasional woman who tries to get on a men's team nowadays. Muggle men are very concerned with dominating everyone around them: male, female, young, old, the animals, even the machines. Changes are happening, but progress is slow and there is frequent backsliding. There are great differences between different age groups, too, and your lady friend is right in the middle, neither old-fashioned fish nor fancy new fowl. It sounds to me like she has had some rough times with men in her life. She is one of the "walking wounded" in the War Between the Sexes."  
  
Severus contemplated the previous evening's events in light of this perspective later. He had spent most of the afternoon at the library, staying until closing. He could see why Hermione brought him there: the place was enormous. He would be spending several hours there each weekend after cooking classes, he knew. Then he met Harry and Hermione for dinner and shopping. They went off at 9 pm, and he surfed the Internet into the early morning hours.  
  
And so his new undercover life developed: dancing lessons and dinner with Rose or the Oldhams and their friends on Friday nights, Saturday morning cooking classes followed by lunch and research at the British Library, Sunday mornings with the Muggle newspapers, Apparate back to Hogwarts after a late lunch. Severus had developed a nodding acquaintance with other tenants in his building. He had even asked Rose to educate him in the popular culture, and they would either watch old films on videotape, or attend live performances of varied types after dinner on Saturday. The best by far had been "Sweeney Todd". Severus identified strongly with Benjamin Barker as the vengeful and betrayed barber. He had blushed at the poetry in "Carmina Burana". He was finding Mondays very shocking after such stimulating weekends. Potions classes were becoming more painful than ever, now that he had some idea of the challenges that his young students would face coming to détente with the Muggle world. The days of fighting and spying on Voldemort may have been brutal and exhausting and dangerous, but they were in many ways much simpler than his present assignment. He also had an itch to experiment with some of the Muggle advances he discovered in the biochemistry field.  
  
"Severus, I wonder if you could spare me a few minutes and report on your weekends in London," Albus stood, hand on the Potions Lab doorknob. It was Wednesday, and classes were over for the day.  
  
"Certainly, Headmaster," Severus conjured a chair for Dumbledore. "In the past 4 weekends I have made the acquaintance of seven Muggles and started remedial research into the Muggle world at the British Library. I can also waltz, polka, and foxtrot. I am becoming familiar with several of the neighborhoods in the vicinity of the flat. And this weekend I am attending a Halloween party, Muggle style, in costume of some sort. I thought I might go in wizard attire, with a Weasley joke wand, perhaps, to prevent accidents." The entire concept of Halloween was an amazing muddle of Muggle fantasy about magic, details from long ago, when the two worlds lived side by side, and the rampant commercialism that Severus still found distasteful. "Hermione says that I am improving each week at passing for native. I can use several items of Muggle technology, including the Internet, the telephone, the Underground, the calculator and the ballpoint pen. I can negotiate taxis, restaurants, and shops, and prepare simple meals Muggle style. What I have not yet managed is to discover how there can be any meeting between the two worlds."  
  
"Which topics have you investigated?"  
  
"History mostly: political movements, the expansion of ideas and knowledge, the path the Muggles followed after the Decree of Secrecy took effect, especially the Americans, who dominate the world today in many respects. And I have a second area of research: I am studying the progress in science since the days of alchemy. I am attending a conference the weekend after next on various diseases and the treatments recently developed. It is a pity that Poppy and her counterparts cannot compare notes. Especially in the area of brain chemistry our two worlds could generate considerable synergy. Our cultures, though, are so different, that finding common starting points for dialog and negotiation is going to be very difficult."  
  
"I see. Have you any other impressions?"  
  
Severus thought over the tremendous amount of detail he had observed and investigated in a few short weeks. Then he thought over the people he had met. "It might be helpful if I knew more of what the Ministry had in mind. There are so many Muggles, and they are all so specialized in their educations and responsibilities, that I am unlikely to meet the relevant people without making a considerable effort."  
  
"As to that, the Minister would like to accompany you this weekend. A party might be the perfect milieu for Arthur Weasley to observe for himself the progress of his project."  
  
Severus was suddenly petrified with fear. The Minister was like a poorly trained dog. He would be jumping up on the Muggles, shedding and drooling, rolling in stinks, and romping about. I would look boring and normal next to Arthur, he thought, and felt a strange sense of relief. There is a silver lining to every cloud. 


	14. Chapter 14: A Woman's Perspective

Chapter 14: A Woman's Perspective  
  
Rose was having lunch with her girlhood friend Melanie, a fellow American who set up as a dentist in London with her British husband after graduation. "So, how's your love life, Rose? Seeing anyone? You're never home when I call."  
  
"Well, I did meet a man at the ballroom dancing lessons, a chemistry professor and pharmaceutical researcher, but he claims to be ineligible. He looks healthy, speaks with erudition, dances quite well, and has funds, and he has a very nice weekend flat in SoHo (Although I've not seen the inside, I had looked in that very building when I first moved to London.) So I don't know what makes him ineligible, precisely: probably a boyfriend. He doesn't have a ring, or ring marks, so I doubt that there's a wife in the picture."  
  
"You wouldn't know straight from gay without labels. Honestly, Rose, you are a complete ignoramus. Remember how you flirted with Kenneth all through sophomore year?"  
  
"It never occurred to me, even after Ken moved to San Francisco to study Chinese. It wasn't until the AIDS epidemic got a lot of press that I put two and two together. You could always check the professor out for me, with your superior experience and uniquely developed sensory apparatus. It's strange. Maybe he's escaped from a monastery. He seemed embarrassed at the performance of "Carmina Burana." Since it was totally new to him, he must have more than a passing knowledge of Latin. He doesn't drive and has practically no knowledge of popular culture. He'd never seen "Casablanca", or "Star Wars", or "The Seven Samurai", and I can't think of any man who hasn't seen at least one of those movies."  
  
"What about "Funny Girl"?"  
  
"I'll try that next, I guess, although I'd rather see "What's Up, Doc?" and "On A Clear Day". Maybe I should run a full Streisand retrospective, followed by Kevin Kline's "In and Out". I have to provide all the context, too. It's like orals for American culture, politics and history every weekend."  
  
"What is this mystery man like? Do you like him?"  
  
"I don't know if I like him or not. He is certainly courteous, with an old-fashioned, Continental flair. He seems very grateful for the time and information I give him. But there is such an air of reserve, of hiding. I am not willing to trust a man who doesn't add up. There are too many unknowns for me to have an opinion, really. It's like having a secret agent escort."  
  
"Well, what does he look like? James Bond? How does he dress?"  
  
He's about our age, I think. If he had any cultural references in his speech, I could date him better. He doesn't know about the Beatles, for God's sake! What kind of Englishman doesn't know the Fab Four? He's tall, thin, beaky-nosed, black-haired, dark-eyed, fairly well dressed. "  
  
"Is he an Englishman, though? How far north is this school of his? Maybe he's from Scotland, or the Shetlands or the Hebrides?"  
  
"I doubt that there are any schools teaching chemistry in the Isles. No, there's no trace of the Hie'land laddy about him, no Teuchter. If anything, there's a trace of Welch in his speech."  
  
"Thank you, Professor Higgins. Well, maybe he's from Mars. Bring up the topic of UFOs while you waltz about the floor. I know! Let's have him come to the Mensan get-together Saturday at my place. Who knows? He might fit right in. Is he a tenor, baritone, or bass?"  
  
"Probably a baritone, right in the middle. One thing is certain: he's no dummy. Any idea who will be coming?"  
  
"My daughter, for one. She was asking for news of her godmother, so you can kill two birds with one stone. We will be continuing with our little soiree, too. You have been practicing, I hope? Maestro will be annoyed with you otherwise. It will be the usual bunch. Bring your score." 


	15. Chapter 15: Samhain Wild Oats

Chapter 15: Samhain Wild Oats  
  
"What are you doing for Halloween, Hermione?" It was Friday afternoon and Harry was packing for a weekend at the Burrow: broom, homework to grade, a small gift for Mrs. Weasley and a larger one for Ginny.  
  
"I am doing some divination with Sybil tonight. Now that her predictions have been shown to be true, she is much more secure in her gift. She claims that Samhain is the most propitious time of the year for predicting the future. Then on Saturday my parents are having a party and I am going to see them and my American godmother. Do you want to come? I could invite all the Weasleys-my father's been asking after Ron's. They took quite a shine to each other back in 2nd Year at the Lockhart book signing."  
  
"Well, I will convey the invitation, although it might be better if it were written formally. Can you have your mother owl us tonight?" Harry stood in the fireplace, preparatory to Flooing off.  
  
"I will. Give my love to Ginny!"  
  
Severus Snape frowned as he surveyed his image in the mirror. He was wearing his basic black robes and suit.  
  
"You don't look much like a wizard in those, Severus," remarked Professor Dumbledore. "And how is the Minister costumed?"  
  
"I am not sure, Headmaster. I did try to convey the idea of masquerade to Weasley, but I think he thought he had to Transfigure like a Animagus, which would defeat the whole purpose of meeting Muggles, to be sure." Severus examined his backside. "I'm not sure that dressing up in gauds like yours would suit me, Albus. I am not the Merlin type. I am more a Mordred at heart."  
  
"You look more like a Death Eater than anything else in those black rags," observed Dumbledore.  
  
"I am a Death Eater, Albus, and nothing will ever change that." A look of infinite regret contorted his face. "I made a great mistake in my youth, and nothing will ever unmake it."  
  
Albus stepped into Severus' line of sight. "The Dark Mark disappeared with Tom Riddle's death. Your bravery and sacrifice and the money you have given to victims, the children you protected and saved from fates worse than death, the orphans you train now, all these good works have tipped the balance for your youthful mistakes. You are not a Death Eater, and you were not a Death Eater either by birth or inclination. Renounce that title forever! You were one of Riddle's victims, too, and you have righted a great wrong. You took great risks, spying for the Order, frustrating Voldemort and the Ministry of Magic at the same time. Everyone has forgiven you. Harry Potter and Miss Granger and all the Weasley family consider you a personal friend."  
  
Albus put a hand on Severus' shoulder. "You have a new life before you. You have a great future to plan and live fully. Turn away from the Darkness at last, and look to the Light. There is nothing in the Past worth pining over; there is nothing in the Future to fear. These are your new orders from the Phoenix: rise from your ashes, Severus!"  
  
Severus put his hand on top of Dumbledore's. "Oh, very well, if that will make it possible that I can get to this party on time, I will."  
  
"Good man." Albus picked up the wand on the desk. "Is this the fake wand the Weasleys sell?" Albus waved it, and it turned into a rubber chicken with a squawk. " I shall have to get one myself next time I am in Hogsmead."  
  
***********************************************************************  
  
Arthur Weasley was waiting for Severus at The Leaky Cauldron, dressed as a Gryffindor lion. Severus looked him over carefully for flaws. "Arthur, you cannot do any part of your costume by magic. It must all be removable, just like clothing, or cosmetics. I hope that you are not too warm in that fur, either. Dancing makes one quite sweaty."  
  
"Oh, I'm not dancing, Severus. Molly said I was to avoid dancing at all costs. She doesn't think it safe for the Muggles." The Minister adjusted his costume, removing the spell on his shoes that had them looking like paws with real claws. "Is that more authentic?"  
  
How should I know? wondered Severus. He wanted to check with Hermione, or even Harry Potter, but since he did not know where they were, he would just have to trust to his own judgment. "Just don't have the tail lashing about, and I think that will do." It will have to; he added to himself, there isn't time for any major change. "Come on out; we have to find a taxi."  
  
Rose looked in the mirror at herself in harem silks. Should a woman on the wrong side of 40 even think of wearing a belly dancer's costume? This would probably be her last chance. Waiting wouldn't make her any younger. And she had taken all those lessons; now would be a good time to use them. The wig made her practically unrecognizable, so if she did anything foolish, she would escape the consequences of a too public display. She resolved to keep the veil up, as well. She sprayed on her favorite rose scented cologne, and for the street, she wore her opera cloak.  
  
******************************************************************  
  
The shabby hall in Kent glittered with the costumes of the arriving partygoers, glowed in the candlelight of a hundred pumpkins. This more than anything else put the Professor and the Minister at ease; it resembled nothing less than the traditional Hogwarts feast.  
  
A lavish buffet ran along one wall; small tables with pairs of spindly chairs lined the opposite. The usually naked and unforgiving dance class mirrors were gilded with fanciful designs, and the floor thronged with dancing couples in all manner of garb. Waiting at the entrance were Aidan and Francesca Oldham, dressed in Elizabethan style. Francesca was the Virgin Queen herself; Aidan portrayed her father, Henry VIII. Most of the entering guests gave full court bows to the pair, and those that didn't were accosted by armoured knights, who saw that the proprieties were observed.  
  
"How shall I announce you, honored guests?" a knight in black armour with gilt inlay addressed Severus.  
  
"I am Mordred, son of Arthur Pendragon," said Severus. Arthur Weasley startled at this. "And this is the Gryffindor Lion."  
  
"May I present to your Royal Highnesses Mordred, son of Arthur Pendragon, and the Cowardly Lion!" bellowed the knight.  
  
"Arise, Prince Mordred," said Francesca. "Arise, King of the Beasts."  
  
Severus stepped forward and kissed her hand, as usual. "Your Highness is in radiant looks tonight. Fanny, may I present a colleague of mine, Arthur Weasley? Good evening, Aidan. You must have gone off your diet. My colleague, Arthur Weasley."  
  
"I rather expected you to arrive with one of our American Beauty roses, sir." Fanny was playing her part to the hilt. "They are perhaps not as delicate as the classic English rose, but they ought not be slighted by anyone."  
  
"Of course, your Majesty," Severus bowed again and swept the Minister off.  
  
"Severus, why did that knight call me cowardly? I've a mind to call him out!" Arthur Weasley was totally confused, and he had just set foot in the hall.  
  
Severus grabbed him by the arm, to forestall his move to challenge the knight. "I am sure it was nothing personal, Arthur. He misheard me due to the noise." Severus saw that he would need to be minder for Arthur, with no possibility to dance, or converse, or look for Rose or his other acquaintances. He was rather anxious about Rose; she had been rather distant. He wasn't sure what he was doing with her, he wasn't sure why he was doing it, and he wasn't sure what he wanted to happen. Too many things were happening too fast for him to plan anything. But the first thing to do was to settle Arthur.  
  
Severus ushered the Minister over to the buffet and helped him to fill a plate with tidbits. He watched the crowd as the dancers passed and the others drifted by. He was hoping to draw one of his acquaintances into conversation. Finally the Oldhams promenaded in his direction. "Our cousin of long ago, Prince Mordred, and the King of Beasts, we would engage your attention for this time," Fanny intoned in her best Gloriana style.  
  
"As Your Majesties command," conceded Severus, bowing with a hand on his breast. "My companion is a stranger to this court, and here on an embassage. He wishes to meet the people I have met, to extend his own circle."  
  
Aidan struck up a conversation with Arthur, abandoning the royal We mode for the typical professional man style of sizing each other up, while Fanny cut Severus out to a somewhat quieter spot behind the buffet.  
  
"Russ, is this man a colleague, a relation, or a lover?"  
  
"No, Fanny, he is my boss' boss. He wanted to see London and Londoners, and I am on assignment to show him the sights and a good time."  
  
"Is he available? I have some other single women that could benefit from a dancing partner."  
  
"He is married, has seven grown children, all of whom I have taught, and he is under strict orders from his wife not to dance, so that he doesn't hurt anyone."  
  
"I see. Well, I will endeavour to keep him out of trouble for part of the evening, so that you may mix a little pleasure with your business, after the entertainment."  
  
"What kind of entertainment are we expecting?"  
  
"We have some specialty dancing tonight: various styles of folk dancing from other lands. It appears that the entertainment is starting now."  
  
The lights dimmed save for the center of the room. Three strapping young fellows in Cossack garb came in to do a troika with all the athleticism one could desire. Then a Spanish beauty performed in flamenco style, an Irish lass clogged, and lastly, a raven-haired, dusky woman in skimpy lavender silks performed the Middle Eastern style commonly known as belly-dancing. This last dancer circled the edges of the crowd, playing up to the men, ending at the Gryffindor Lion. She coaxed and teased and patted, until poor Arthur was quite ensorcelled. She lassoed him with a filmy scarf, and he followed her like a dog on a leash. Severus was forced to catch hold of his Minister once again. "Let her go, Arthur. It is entertainment, not an assignation. Let her go, I say!" The woman disappeared into the darkness and the crowd. Arthur shook off the spell, and sniffed the scarf still around his neck.  
  
"Attar of roses, such a divine fragrance for a divine dancer. Do you think I could meet her later, Severus?"  
  
Severus came to his aid in removing the scarf, and muttered, "What would you do, take her home to meet Molly, Arthur?" He wadded up the scarf to stuff into his robe, when he caught the scent, too. "Roses! That was Rose?" He turned to Fanny, but she had drifted down the hall. Aidan, however, was still standing nearby. "Aidan, can you stay with Arthur while I seek out Rose? I will return her scarf and then come back." Severus started off, then turned back and asked, "Where might I find her?"  
  
"Try the Ladies loo." Aidan was smiling a bit too broadly for Severus' taste. He enjoyed a good romance, and this one was looking very promising. 


	16. Chapte 16: The Wizard of Ahs

Chapter 16 The Wizard of Ahs  
  
As Severus approached the retiring rooms, he saw a woman in a dark green abaya trimmed with silver, a matching shayla wrapped about her head and veiling her mouth. Underneath, the hammered silver bells or her dancing silks softly jingled.  
  
"I believe this is yours," he said, handing her the scarf. "Pray do not lead my Headmaster's supervisor astray; he is a very married man and I am his minder for the evening." She accepted the scarf, turned without saying anything, and returned to the dance floor. Severus followed. "I fear I have done wrong, but if you would forgive me long enough for one dance, I will then bundle up Arthur and go home with our tails between our feet." She turned to look at him, head cocked to one side. "Your dancing was exquisite, and made a very favorable impression on him."  
  
She uncovered her face so Severus could see the smile. "Did you like it?"  
  
He held out his arms and she stepped into place for the waltz. "I was stunned. I never knew you could dance like that. I never knew anyone could dance like that."  
  
"I keep forgetting how little you know, Russ. I see I was correct in guessing that you are or were in religious orders. You wore your old cassock for your costume. Is it impermissible for defrocked priests to wear the crucifix or beads? The outfit looks incomplete without them."  
  
"I am not a priest nor was I ever. I am dressed as a wizard: specifically, Mordred, son of Arthur Pendragon."  
  
Rose was silent as they continued dancing, her eyes fixed mainly on the floor on her right. "I never thought of Mordred being a wizard, but I suppose that is true, if his mother was a witch. And since he was an evil man, I suppose black would be the logical choice for him. But you truly look like a priest in that outfit."  
  
"I like you better as a blonde, Rose, but you make a passable brunette."  
  
"It is the makeup that does it. If one's skin color agrees with one's wig, then the effect is quite natural."  
  
"If you had changed perfumes to jasmine, I might never have recognized you."  
  
"I will remember that next time I go incognito." She smiled as she looked him in the face again. The music ended, and Severus led her to the buffet where Arthur stood chatting with Fanny.  
  
"Arthur, may I present Rose Mallorn, my dancing instructor? Rose, this is Arthur Weasley, my boss' boss. He's come down to see the sights this weekend."  
  
"Thank you for the performance, Miss Mallorn. I enjoyed it thoroughly." Arthur reluctantly released her hand. "Fanny has been telling me all about your houses. I should like to see them. I am thinking of building a new house, for my dear wife is quite worn out caring for our present home. You know these older dwellings, always something to mend. May I help you find something from the buffet? You must be starving." They drifted down the tables, plates in hand, while Severus and Fanny watched them go.  
  
"Mr. Weasley is a charming fellow, Russ. A bit impractical, perhaps?" Fanny was regarding Severus with an ironic look in her eye. "I see you have patched things over with Rose."  
  
"If I did, it was without having the slightest idea what offense I had given. Would you be willing to enlighten me?" Severus pulled up a chair for her, and then another for himself.  
  
"Thank you, dear boy. This costume weighs a ton. I am not quite sure what you have done to offend Rose, and it may be that she is not certain, either. What are your intentions for this relationship between you? Are you lovers, friends, or just acquaintances? You ask so many questions, yet reveal so few answers. Are you in trouble? Are you in hiding? Rose has no one close, but she needs closeness. If you have no intention of developing any, then you had best find someone who needs their space, as the young men say." She beckoned to her husband, who grabbed another chair and sat by her side.  
  
Severus was stunned once again. These Muggle women are so complex! He didn't recall any witch ever being this much trouble. But then again, he never spent this much time with any particular one. He spent very little time with anyone, male or female. Severus was beginning to see what Albus had been telling him all these years. He needed to get out more, develop some ease in society. He was a wizard geek, like those computer geeks Hermione described once. He had been aping Mordred, but he didn't really like it. He needed a new role model. He could function in a hierarchy, in academia, but in the civilian world he was totally at sea. Worse yet, even if he could chart himself a new course, there was still the great divide between the Muggle and the Magical to cross. He doubted that Rose would accept him as an acquaintance, let alone a friend, if she knew he was a wizard.  
  
"I have lived a very solitary life, Fanny," he began. "This dancing class was my first attempt to join the human race outside of the academic world. I thought I was making progress, but perhaps I have gone as far as I can right now. You have given me a great deal to consider. Thank you for the advice. I shall have to think out what to do next."  
  
"What do you want to do, Russ? Once you have the right question, the answer becomes obvious." Fanny sighed. "The old are so impatient. We want to see the endings before we die. We want to know if our predictions come true. We want to leave everyone living happily ever after, blessed with our wisdom, spared our worst pain by benefit of learning from our painful experiences." She reached out to Aidan and took his hand. "There is so little time, after all; don't waste it."  
  
"If I were you, my young friend," added Aidan. "I'd decide right now if I wanted to kiss the girl. And then I would, just because the window of opportunity is closing fast." He stood, and Fanny joined him. Severus stood, as well. "And as for us, it's time we toddled off to bed. Coming, my dear? Tempus fugit!" He winked at Severus, and took his wife home to bed.  
  
Severus felt a cold trickle of panic at being suddenly abandoned, which contrasted with the excessive heat from the dance floor. He felt wrapped in a cloud of shadow, and stripped naked in the spotlight. He felt dizzy with the sudden revision of all he thought he knew. He turned and searched for the Minister and Rose.  
  
When her plate was sufficiently full, Rose thanked Arthur Weasley and asked him to sit with her and talk. "Russ says you and he work together. Have you known him long?"  
  
Arthur was a study in consternation, "Severus said that? Well, since the end of the war I have moved into government, but we fought together against the foe. I've known Severus nearly 25 years now, I guess. We attended the same school, though our educations did not overlap. And he's taught all seven of my children, of course. He's a hard taskmaster, but he gets results. His temper is legendary, though. You are generous to put up with him."  
  
Rose looked up through her lashes. "I suppose your wives are good friends, too?"  
  
"Oh, Severus hasn't any wife. I don't think he's ever had a steady girlfriend, even. There simply wasn't time. A double agent doesn't want any hostages to fortune, you know."  
  
Rose was feeling more and more perplexed. What kind of mare's nest was this? At a loss as to how to continue the interrogation, she instead decided to switch subjects.  
  
"Are you a dancer, Arthur? I would be glad to substitute for your wife if you wished to take a turn on the floor."  
  
"That's very kind of you, Miss Rose, but I promised my wife I wouldn't dance; don't want to hurt the Muggles, you know. Oh, there you are, Severus! Do you want your dancing partner back already?"  
  
Severus considered Arthur, his fingers twitching, itching to grab his wand and Obliviate them both. His carefully constructed identity was in shreds. He now knew where the younger Weasleys had got their most irritating characteristics, and it wasn't Molly.  
  
On the other hand, when he looked at Rose, she was smiling a straightforward, non-ironic, happy-to-see-you kind of smile. Perhaps he should rescue her from the Minister.  
  
"If the lady wishes to dance, I am at her service." He bowed slightly.  
  
Rose stood. "Yes, the lady does wish to dance, Severus," she purred, and she took his arm and followed him into a polka. As the polka is a fast and energetic sort of dance, there was no chance of conversation, which suited Severus just fine. Instead, he tried to gauge his partner's state of mind. As he stared into her eyes, he found her staring into his. Her powers of Occlumency were much better than Potter's, and he felt as if she were reading him like a book, all the time with that cat-got-the-cream smile. Severus was the first to drop his eyes, but as the abaya was cut to reveal quite a bit of cleavage at that angle, he found no relief. Fortunately, the music concluded, and the dancers clapped their thanks and moved off the floor for rest and refreshment.  
  
"Rose, I have to take Arthur home tonight, but I should like to have dinner with you tomorrow. I think we should talk." Damage control at this late stage was better than no control at all. If the worst occurred, he always had the option to Obliviate. Being a wizard meant never having to say you're sorry, unless you wanted to, or couldn't cast the spell fast enough.  
  
"I am not available for dinner tomorrow; I have been invited to a soiree at my best friend's house. But you can come with me. I have been asked to bring you along. You can broaden your circle of acquaintances. They are a very nice bunch of people: smart, accomplished, educated in divers fields. And they talk with authority about anything and everything. You'll love it! Shall I come by and pick you up, say sevenish?"  
  
Severus considered her expression. Looking down from his advantage of roughly 9 inches, he saw nothing amiss. She seemed friendly, excited, and warmer than she had ever been before toward him. He found this encouraging, though he was at a loss to understand why he was so suddenly regarded with favour. "Very well. I will watch from the lobby so you do not have to park, starting at 7 pm. What is the dress code for this soiree?"  
  
"Ordinary dress will do," she replied. "Until tomorrow, then?" and she sashayed to the cloakroom and left for home. 


	17. Chapter 17 Man is the Only Creature to C...

Chapter 17: Man is the Only Creature That Constructs an Alternate Reality, or Needs To!  
  
Severus Snape, Head of Slytherin, Potions Master Deluxe, turned to the Minister of Magic and said, "Arthur, what did you say to Rose Mallorn? Aside from my full first name, that is?"  
  
"Oh, I told her you had no wife or girlfriend." Arthur was still schmoozing from the buffet. Molly would be busy later treating an upset stomach.  
  
"I see. Anything else?" Could this information alone account for Rose's sunny disposition?  
  
"Just what we discussed, how we worked together and knew each other, and about you teaching my children, that sort of thing. She is quite a dancer. I was watching you two go at it, and I was impressed. I didn't know you had it in you! Of course, having a good partner makes all the difference."  
  
Severus scrutinized his companion. Well, the cat was among the pixies now. "Come along, Arthur, time you went home and told Molly about your excursion in Muggleland."  
  
Arthur Weasley looked distressed. "Severus, could you refrain from telling Molly about my improvised role in tonight's entertainment? She might take it amiss."  
  
"I will carry your secret to the grave, Minister." With the bright dawning of a new day all of last night's doubts and worries faded away. Severus considered that he had passed another milestone; Exceeded Expectations on another test in his course on Muggle Studies. He made himself breakfast, Muggle style, and set out for the library. There was a public lecture on the latest research in autism, and he thought he might learn something useful that he could pass onto Rose later.  
  
The lecture hall was half full, perhaps fifty people in all, when Severus arrived. He took a seat near the back, where there was plenty of open space. Just before the lecture started, a rather dashing redhead of the female persuasion, whose skirt was rather immodest, and whose jasmine fragrance sent his head spinning, sat down right next to him. He pulled a small notepad and a pen out of his jacket, intent on taking notes if there was anything noteworthy, or on just admiring the view on his left, if not. The redhead took a notebook and a pen out of her large handbag, and then she grabbed a large book of music, opened it and began to tap her foot and hum. The tune sounded very familiar. He glanced over and saw it was the opening piece to Carl Orff's "Carmina Burana".  
  
O Fortuna  
  
velut luna  
  
statu variabilis,  
  
semper crescis  
  
aut decrescis;  
  
vita detestabilis  
  
nunc obdurate  
  
et tunc curat  
  
ludo mentis aciem,  
  
egestatem,  
  
potestatem  
  
dissolvit ut glaciem.  
  
O Fortune,  
  
like the moon  
  
you are changeable,  
  
ever waxing  
  
and waning;  
  
hateful life  
  
first oppresses  
  
and then soothes  
  
as fancy takes it;  
  
poverty  
  
and power  
  
it melts them like ice.  
  
Lyrics and translations (© Schott Musik International, Mainz). . When the lecture began, Severus was relieved that the humming and foot- tapping stopped. He glanced at his seatmate, but her hair concealed her face. At least she didn't resemble any Weasley he knew. He relaxed and concentrated on the speaker, and idly marveled at the Muggle methods of projecting the speaker's voice as well as displaying large pictures and graphs on the wall.  
  
In truth, Severus Snape took copious notes, but that did not stop him from enjoying the sideshow. He noticed that the woman beside him had shoes of the same style as he'd seen Rose wear. Thinking of her, remembering their last meeting, their conversation about wigs and perfume, his mentioning jasmine; suddenly, Severus knew he'd been had. The tension in his whole body betrayed his suspicion. But at that point, the speaker finished, the audience clapped, and the redhead gracefully stood, scooped up her belongings, and left the hall. Severus turned, but saw only her gracefully swaying walk, so similar to the display he watched the night before, and on the seat beside him, a rosebud with two-colored petals: the inner surfaces were all yellow, the outer a tangerine orange.  
  
If his suspicions were correct, he'd just sat next to Rose for two hours without noticing. He hoped that his suspicions were wrong.  
  
When 7 o'clock rolled around, Severus was waiting impatiently in the lobby of his building, watching for Rose and her vehicle. She promptly appeared and pulled the car to the curb in front of the door. He came out bearing a bottle of wine for the hostess, and sat in the passenger seat.  
  
"That was a lovely thought, Severus, Melanie will appreciate the wine. She's an American, too, fell in love with a Brit and emigrated. We've been best friends since the age of 12, went to the same University even. She invited me over when I felt the need to get out of town, and I've come to like England very much."  
  
"Do you ever go back to America?" he asked, more because he felt it was expected of him than because he wanted to know.  
  
"I haven't yet; perhaps someday I'll wear out my welcome, or get homesick, or get my heart broken, and then think of moving on or moving back. Probably moving on; there's nothing and no one back home for me anymore. Oh, there's the perfect parking spot!" Rose competently parallel- parked the Taurus, and led the way to a row of older homes, set rather close together but fenced about, with modest front gardens and deeper back ones. "I think we're a bit early; I don't see anyone else's cars about."  
  
They walked up the garden path to the front door. Severus stopped to contemplate a rosebush in glorious bloom, covered with roses with two-toned petals while Rose rang the doorbell. "Aunt Rose! You're here!" That was a very familiar female voice. Severus looked up at the front door in disbelief. Then another woman spoke.  
  
"Come on in Rose! Did you come alone? Where is your Martian?" the porch light blinked on, and there in front of him stood Hermione Granger, a woman who must be her mother, and the woman he was going to strangle at the first opportunity. 


	18. Chapter 18: A Fresh Start

Chapter 18: A Fresh Start  
  
Hermione was the first to speak. "Professor Snape! What are you doing here?"  
  
"Do come in, Professor. So nice to have you visit us at last." That was Mrs. Granger, Melanie, the girlhood friend.  
  
"If your legs won't carry you in, you could just Apparate, Severus." Thus spake the most annoying, vexing, obnoxious person in the whole world, now that his three pet peeves: James Potter, Sirius Black, and Tom Riddle were no more. And now a man approached from the side of the house, hand outstretched.  
  
"Good evening Professor. Come on in. They don't bite unless you beg nicely. I have to warn you, though; you have to get up pretty early in the morning if you are going to try to outsmart a Mensan. I'm John Granger, by the way." Mr. Granger was about the same height as Severus, although built on more rugged lines. The women entered and the men followed them into the Granger residence.  
  
"I am reminded of something Kipling once said," began Severus.  
  
"The female of the species is much deadlier than the male!" chorused the women as one.  
  
"We hear that one all the time, Professor. Thank you for the wine! That was very thoughtful. Now come in and get comfortable," Melanie Granger took his arm and almost dragged him into the sitting room. "Rose, can you give me a hand in the kitchen?" She stared sternly at her husband, who took the hint and sat between his daughter and her erstwhile Potions Professor.  
  
As she gently settled on a chair, Hermione hesitantly asked, "Where did you meet my godmother, Professor?"  
  
"At the dancing class you assigned me, Miss Granger." Severus tried, but his sneer seemed to be broken. He wasn't sure, but he was either on the verge of tears, or a great belly laugh.  
  
"Professor, I swear I had no idea Aunt Rose was going to those classes!" Hermione was on the verge of something, herself: panic. If "Uncle" Severus chose to hex her, she was unarmed. At her mother's house, Hermione left her wand in her room. Gales of laughter pealed forth from the kitchen, and the sound of two women speaking nearly simultaneously, at twice normal speed, and in the most barbaric accent ever heard by English ears broke the silence of the sitting room.  
  
John Granger cleared his throat. "Well, our other guests will be here shortly. Should I set up the dueling range, or shall we have peace? You will stay, won't you, Professor?"  
  
"What kind of dueling do you have in mind, Mr. Granger?" Severus goggled at the thought. "Rose is not a witch, at least not in the Magical sense. And I have no skill with Muggle weaponry."  
  
"We usually use our wits, Professor," Granger said with a smile.  
  
"Well then, I am hopelessly outclassed," and Severus smiled back. The two men snickered, then roared with laughter. As if waiting for that signal, the women returned bearing trays of hors d'oeuvres, and the doorbell rang.  
  
*******************************************************  
  
Twenty chattering, munching, drinking people filled the sitting room and overflowed to the kitchen. With the arrival of the Maestro, the gathering was complete. He shook hands with Severus, as all the other guests had done, drank a glass of wine, and headed for the piano. "Warm ups!" he caroled, and the guests as one rose and performed various vocalizes. Feeling a bit like he'd fallen down the rabbit hole, Severus joined in, earning a bunch of approving nods and a glorious smile from Rose. Melanie Granger and Rose exchanged hand signals and nodded. The maestro cut short the exercise and said, "Who is our baritone? Is that you, Russ? I have just the piece for you!" He handed Severus a score. "Do you read music? No? John, be his shepherd and sing along softly. Ready?"  
  
Dies, nox et omnia  
  
michi sunt contraria;  
  
virginum colloquia  
  
me fay planszer,  
  
oy suvenz suspirer,  
  
plu me fay temer.  
  
O sodales, ludite,  
  
vos qui scitis dicite  
  
michi mesto parcite,  
  
grand ey dolur,  
  
attamen consulite  
  
per voster honur.  
  
Tua pulchra facies  
  
me fay planszer milies,  
  
pectus habet glacies.  
  
A remender  
  
statim vivus fierem  
  
per un baser.  
  
Day, night and everything is against me,  
  
the chattering of maidens makes me weep,  
  
and often sigh, and, most of all, scares me.  
  
O Friends,you are making fun of me,  
  
You don't know what you are saying,  
  
spare me, sorrowful as I am,  
  
great is my grief,  
  
advise me at least,  
  
by your honour.  
  
Your beautiful face  
  
makes me weep a thousand times,  
  
your heart is of ice.  
  
As a cure,  
  
I would be revived  
  
by a kiss.  
  
"Very good for a first run through" the Maestro nodded. "And now, our Coloratura: let's see if you have been practicing, Rose."  
  
Stetit puella  
  
rufa tunica;  
  
si quis eam tetigit,  
  
tunica crepuit.  
  
Eia.  
  
Stetit puella  
  
tamquam rosula;  
  
facie splenduit,  
  
os eius fioruit.  
  
Eia.  
  
A girl stood  
  
in a red tunic;  
  
if anyone touched it,  
  
the tunic rustled.  
  
Eia!  
  
A girl stood  
  
like a little rose:  
  
her face was radiant  
  
and her mouth in bloom.  
  
Eia!  
  
Lyrics and translations (© Schott Musik International, Mainz).  
  
Sometime later, when the rehearsal was over and conversation took its place, Severus worked his way over to Rose. "Who are these people, and what are we doing here?"  
  
"They are Mensans, doing what Mensans do best: arguing. And you have just joined the Mensatones, who will be performing Carmina Burana at the Gathering next summer. You will have to pass an intelligence test, if you want to be a full-fledged member, but that should not be difficult."  
  
"And why would I want to do any of these things?" Severus was annoyed by the presumption.  
  
"Why, so you can succeed with the little project Arthur Weasley has set out for you: Détente between our two cultures. You want to meet people who think and who are open to new ideas. You want to meet people who know how to handle ambiguity. Wherever two Mensans meet, there are at least three opinions. I'm not saying that they are the rich and powerful, although some are. But they are certifiably intelligent, educated for the most part, creative and accepting."  
  
"At what moment in time did all this plot come into being?" Severus asked.  
  
"The original programme was to introduce you to what passes for my family here in Britain, both so they could size you up, and so you could meet some more people, as you often express a wish to do." Rose took a sip of wine to fortify herself. "But when Arthur used the expression 'Muggle' to me, all the missing pieces fell in place. Because I know and love Hermione, I know of the Magical people hidden among us. Your veil of mystery was stripped away. I have yet to glean any information about you in particular from my godchild, but the night is early yet. Unless you would rather do me the honor of introducing the real you, yourself."  
  
"Rose, that would take much longer than an hour or two." Severus was feeling a headache coming on. There were many parts of his past that he had no desire to discuss. His past, all parts of his past, were not only catching up with him, but threatening to drown him. He couldn't begin to imagine how Rose would react to Hermione's stories of the irascible Potions Master, the Death Eater, the Head of Slytherin House, but he rather thought she would soon no longer be a friend or even an acquaintance. He felt a great sense of loss looming in his future. Rose was a unique event in his life: a fresh start. He suddenly felt a great need to talk to Dumbledore.  
  
Rose wasn't unaware of the wave of emotional distress pouring off him, but she was rather at a loss as to the cause, or what to do about it. The subject of "Who is this Severus Snape?" seemed to be totally shut down for now. "Well then, perhaps later might be better. What did you do today for excitement, aside from this evening, of course?"  
  
As memories of the redhead at the library lecture filled his mind, Severus suddenly got an evil idea. "How would you like to go out for one of those horrible ice cream desserts you favor, Rose? I have a craving for hot fudge sauce, all of a sudden."  
  
"You mean just get up and leave?" This was far looser than the tightly buttoned up mystery man he used to be. This was spontaneity and initiative, and the offer smelt strongly of manipulation, but Rose was not adverse to the promise of chocolate, nor to the opportunity for private conversation with a very intriguing (in more than one sense) wizard. She knew now that her safety was assured: Snape would not be the unknown male preying upon the naïve foreign woman. Hermione and her family would see to that. Her curiosity was running at full tilt, too: an itch that needed scratching sooner or later. Furthermore, her Earth Goddess tendency was rising very strongly in her heart. Severus was the first unmarried man with whom she'd spent any time in the last ten years, and his shell was cracked. She wanted to know and nurture whatever new person emerged. Having given up on romance, she was happy with the possibility of a friend. "I guess we could do that." 


	19. Chapter 19: Let's Start at the Very Begi...

Chapter 19: Let's Start at the Very Beginning-A Very Good Place to Start!  
  
After Severus and Rose had tucked themselves into her Taurus, she turned to him and asked: "Where to?"  
  
"I have the ingredients back at the flat."  
  
"Okay." With a sidelong glance at him, Rose set out for Severus' building, and he directed her to the parking for residents. He was frowning, as in deep thought.  
  
Once they were inside, Severus lit a fire in his usual magical way. Rose maintained a very casual manner, but she felt she was becoming quite unnerved. It is one thing to know about wizards, and another to observe one in action; especially a large, masculine and powerful one. Thoughts about curiosity and cats kept running through her mind, like a hamster on a wheel. Do not meddle in the affairs of wizards, for they are subtle and quick to anger, Tolkien warned. Rose began to regret her well-read background, vivid imagination, and comments about cassocks.  
  
Severus stepped into the kitchen, leaving Rose to pace the room, stare at the fire, and plan a hasty exit. He returned before her courage completely deserted her, bearing her favorite mint chocolate chip hot fudge sundae, and a large banana split for himself. She wasn't even going to ask how this food came into being. She just took it with thanks and sat in one of the wing chairs near the hearth.  
  
"My compliments to the chef," she murmured, after two delicious bites.  
  
"I took some cooking classes last month. Hermione thought I ought to know how to pass for Muggle." Severus was doing justice to his banana split. It was rather cozy, sharing dessert and an open fire, and they both started to relax in each other's company.  
  
"Do I pass for Muggle, Rose?" he asked rather earnestly.  
  
She thoughtfully considered his question, while dealing with a generous bite of the sundae. "I never thought you to be anything other than a very closed-off kind of man, and that isn't anything unusual in my experience."  
  
"I am a man, you know. We are all descended from common ancestors, and we are not separate species." Severus stared broodingly in the fire. "I just had a different upbringing, and some talents and training that others don't. The closed off part is due to events in the past, which left me preferring my own company over the delights of socializing."  
  
"That is a common attribute of Mensans, too, you know. People who differ too much from average get too much grief from the crowd around them. If they don't have the skills and friends and family to provide emotional support and nurturing, they will wall themselves off in self-defense, or develop dysfunctional habits like drug use or delinquency and the like. Sometimes joining a Mensa group can help, if the person is not too far gone into outlawry." She thought of various people in her past.  
  
"You never struck me as walled off or dysfunctional," Severus remarked pointedly. "I thought you reserved, until I got to know you a little better."  
  
"Well, I had loving grandparents, the immigrant American dream, a lot of books to read, and a lonely and socially isolated childhood. I had no living peers in the neighborhood or in the family and unfortunately I was aware of that lack. I lived in books instead of the real world." She finished the sundae with a sigh. "I would say you passed for Muggle just fine. It was Arthur who gave away the game. He and his wife were also invited tonight, but he is feeling under the weather. The Grangers and Weasleys are making plans to get together next week instead. You and I are also invited."  
  
"I cannot imagine how we would have survived this evening with the Weasleys present. I would have had to Obliviate everyone there." Severus broke into a sweat thinking about it. Rose was alarmed.  
  
"And what does Obliviating get you?" she asked. "Are you planning to Obliviate me?"  
  
"It's a charm to alter memory, and I have no intention of Obliviating you, unless you want to forget all about me. You may ask if you feel the need at any time, and I won't deny you. It is the least I can do for any trouble I impose on you." Severus wondered if he would ever have to honor that vow. It would be a sign of personal failure, to hurt a woman so much that she wanted to forget your very existence.  
  
"That would be the ultimate cure for a broken heart. There's even a lounge song on that theme; it's called 'I Don't Remember Christmas'*. It's rather sad. I would prefer to do the breaker a permanent injury, myself." Now Rose had that brooding look. Severus decided to tread lightly around this woman. After all the little skills she had demonstrated so far, he wouldn't doubt her ability and will to inflict said damage, if she felt inspired. "Give me your dish. You made the food. I'll wash up," she said.  
  
"Scourgify!" Severus waved his wand, and the dishes were clean. "Not necessary, but thank you for offering."  
  
"I truly do not understand why your government is interested in having anything to do with us Muggles, Severus. What do you need us for?" Rose was feeling aggrieved. She never offered to wash anything for any man anymore, as a general rule, and her generosity had been rejected. Still, she could get used to not doing chores, if the possibility arose.  
  
"We recently defeated a Dark Wizard after nearly 30 years of losing people, Magical and Muggle, to his cruelty and that of his followers. The Magical community is rather small. Out of 60 million residents in Great Britain, we can claim only 60, 000. About half have only minor talents, and only half are educated in those talents. We lost nearly 20,000 people in 30 years, many in the prime of life, so all their future descendants were also lost." Severus closed his eyes in pain. So many faces flashed before his eyes. "The Muggle losses were about the same, but not as devastating proportionally to the total population. The Minister of Magic feels that both groups should ally to better counter any future attacks by outlaws. He also feels that if we knew more about Muggles, we would appreciate them and befriend them and they would do likewise. Intermarriage would help to spread our talents in the general population, and relieve inbreeding, which is becoming a severe problem among the Purebloods. Of the Muggleborn wizards and witches, most minor talents do not receive training, and they can more easily run into trouble with your laws. Closer cooperation could prevent that. There is a lot of merit to the idea, actually."  
  
"And how does one Severus Snape, of Hogwarts School, become involved in this Grand Experiment?" Rose asked. "There must be Muggleborn wizards who could bridge the gap more easily."  
  
"Most of our senior Muggleborn members were the ones we lost in the war," he sighed. "The Purebloods always considered them outsiders, unless very well-connected by marriage. After two or three generations the distinction and discrimination would fade. We lost those generations. I am a default candidate, by virtue of having few ties to anyone or anything." He wasn't going to try to explain the dynamics of his obligation to Dumbledore, which was the real root of his selection. "So, there we are."  
  
They both stared into the fire, lost in their thoughts. When the logs shifted, the hypnotic spell broke. Severus looked over at Rose. "I sat next to you for nearly two hours and didn't realize it. How many wigs do you own?"  
  
Rose was amused. "I was beginning to wonder if you noticed, what with all the clues I dropped. And that information is Classified."  
  
"Classified what? And in my defense I want to note that I was distracted by the lecture and a redhead with beautiful legs." Severus felt very daring, making such a personal remark.  
  
"Classified is spook talk. In America the government likes to conceal information from critics by classifying it as Secret, Top Secret, Need to Know, and various other forms of secret agent speak." Rose felt embarrassed and pleased by the compliment, which came out so spontaneously.  
  
"Well, will I be encountering more disguises, or are we both out in the open, now?" Severus was speaking half in jest, half seriously.  
  
"Now that we seem to be working on the same side, I see no need to conceal my identity from you. After all, your cover is completely blown." Rose was getting sleepy from all the theobromine in the fudge sauce.  
  
Not completely by any measure, thought Severus. There is so much more she doesn't know. But would I ever want to tell her? Would she really want to hear it? Would we still be on the same side then? After contemplation of his dark, dark past, Severus glanced at Rose. She was asleep. It was nearly midnight, so he could understand why she had dozed off. He debated Transfiguring the chair she sat in so that she could be more comfortable, or carrying her off to one of the guest rooms, but before he made any decision, he dozed off, himself. 


	20. Chapter 20: In the Still of the Night

Chapter 20: In the Still of the Night  
  
Rose was having a dream, a very nice dream. She didn't usually notice her dreams, or remember them. Most often her dreaming consisted of pages of text she had read flashing back at her, or sometimes she dreamt that she was reading the comics, but the captions had nothing to do with the drawings, and it was very dull and not at all funny. But this dream was different. There was color, and birdsong, and she felt very happy. She was in a wood. Ancient old elms in full autumn glory raised golden arches in a blue September sky. It was some three hours after noon and the sun shone through the leafy canopies in beams that warmed without burning. She raised her arms in that leafy cathedral and cried, "I thought they were all dead!"  
  
"I charmed them," said a woman's voice from behind her. Rose turned around and saw a woman about her age and height, with curling black hair, dressed in forest green and with an emerald set in silver on her breast. "Otherwise, they would have died of the disease with all the others. I am Elizabeth, and you are Rose. If you love him, you must be fearless, and you must be swift."  
  
"I don't give love away anymore, Elizabeth. I did that, twice. Love must be earned." Rose shivered as clouds blew across the sun.  
  
"Third time is the charm. Love cannot be earned. Respect can be earned. Love is, or it is not." Elizabeth drew nearer, and put a hand on Rose's shoulder. "You have already earned his respect."  
  
"Love must be returned, and honored," said Rose, defensively.  
  
"My son is honourable," said Elizabeth.  
  
"But does he love me?" cried Rose, and Elizabeth vanished. Rose felt a hand on her shoulder again, and turned to find Severus standing with the sun behind him. She closed her eyes to the glare, and felt gentle lips kiss her brow, then each cheek, and finally her lips.  
  
With that she startled, awoke, and blinking, saw Severus standing before her, blocking the fire. "It's 3 o'clock. I fell asleep, too. I have extra beds, one of which must be more comfortable than that chair." He held out a hand, and she uncurled and tried to stand.  
  
"My leg is asleep," she protested. He muttered "Mobilicorpus" and, gathering her in his arms, bore her to Hermione's room. She clutched his neck in terror, confused by the weightless feeling, the sudden awakening and the unusual dream. As he drew back the covers and placed her in the bed, she demanded, "What is your mother's name?"  
  
"My mother's name was Elizabeth; she died when I was 17. Sleep now. We can talk more in the morning," Severus said. He pulled off her shoes and socks.  
  
"Russ, why did you go to the lecture Saturday?" Rose clutched his hand as he covered her with the blankets.  
  
"I knew you would be interested, but I didn't know your telephone number and I forgot to mention it Friday night. So I decided to go and take notes for you."  
  
"That was sweet of you," Rose sighed, and she kissed his cheek and lay down. Thirty seconds later, she was completely unconscious.  
  
"You are welcome, Rose," said Severus Snape.  
  
Severus returned to the sitting room. The fire had burned quite low, and the room was warm. He stood in front of the hearth, staring at the coals. He had dreamt of his mother, and then Rose had woken and asked of her. That was too much of a coincidence. He must have been too relaxed and broadcast his dream. His habits were growing slovenly. Such a lack of discretion would have gotten him killed during his spying days.  
  
Rose had called him sweet. No, she said he did a nice thing, a sweet gesture, not quite the same. He had dreamt of Rose, too. His mother had kissed his cheek in his dream, and told him that Fortune had turned for him at last, that he would find golden riches hidden in her wych elm grove. And suddenly he was there, in Penclawdd, and before him was Rose, clad in robes the color of the golden elm leaves above, golden hair streaming down her back and shoulders. If that didn't count as a mother's blessing, he didn't know what did.  
  
Severus had two fears: the fear of being hurt by others for sport, and the fear of hurting innocents by his carelessness. He had put the first fear to rest by seeing those who sought to hurt him destroyed by his hand or the hands of others, or by their own mistakes. The second fear he fought by avoiding entanglements. His mother had loved him, and protected him as much as possible, but his father cursed her when Severus was 12, and she grew weaker each year until she died. That was the final straw that sent him to the join the Dark Lord, but his father drank himself to death before Severus could properly curse him back to avenge her death.  
  
Respecting his mother's message, Severus now had a job to do. He must determine if he could be a good husband, and if the lady would entertain a proposal of marriage. He knew only one flaw in Rose: she was totally Muggle. His world would look askance at such an alliance. On the other hand, the British witches were not exactly pursing ex-Death Eaters, no matter how decorated. Or he could do nothing; forgo his mother's last blessing; let things stay the way they were.  
  
"What do you want to do, Severus?" he asked himself. "Asking the right question should make the answer obvious, according to Fanny."  
  
One thing he didn't want to do was go back to sleep. He turned on the videotape machine and inserted one of the films Rose had selected for his cultural education. It was another musical. Rose seemed to prefer those plays with song and dance and happy endings. As the peasants sang their opening number, Severus gave a snort. "Tradition! An appropriate subject!" 


	21. Chapter 21: Good Morning, Starshine!

Chapter 21: Good Morning, Starshine!  
  
Rose was an unreconstructed Lark. She woke with the sun; she sang with the birds; she drove Night Owls crazy. But this morning she thought she was going crazy, herself. She did not know where she was. She had never seen this room before, and aside from the clothes she was wearing, nothing seemed familiar. She padded off barefoot in search of a lavatory. Some things are immutable.  
  
With the feeling of relief some memory returned to her. She remembered the party at the Grangers, then the ice cream social at Severus' and finally, the dream. The dream was not only clear; it was also amazingly persistent. She put on her shoes and headed out to the car. She had an overnight bag in the boot. She had intended to stay at the Grangers, instead of driving home late. It looked like she stayed with Severus, instead. And he had been a perfect gentleman, worse luck.  
  
As she passed through the sitting room, she saw him sleeping in front of the television, a blue screen from the unattended VCR glowing in the gloom. She gently turned off the machinery and regarded the sleeping wizard. He seemed peaceful, at least. She ejected the cassette to see what it was he had been watching. "Fiddler on the Roof," she thought. "I wonder what he made of that."  
  
As tempting as it was to relive her dream, as a sort of reverse Sleeping Beauty, she was afraid of startling him. Visions of being hexed by an abruptly awakened wizard squelched any such impulse. Besides, it was only in her dream that they were on kissing terms. But as she put the cassette back in its case, she heard a gruff, "Good morning, Rose. Did you sleep well?"  
  
"Yes, thank you. I didn't mean to put you out of your bed, Severus. I was supposed to sleep over at the Grangers. I hope they aren't worried."  
  
"You slept in Hermione's bed. When she is playing my niece, she uses that room. After shifting you there, I didn't feel like sleeping right away." Severus yawned and stretched.  
  
"So you watched Fiddler on the Roof instead. Did you see the whole thing?"  
  
"Yes. I would like to discuss it with you over breakfast, if you have time to stay. Were you dashing off somewhere?" Severus stood and rubbed his head, rumpling the thick hair even more than sleeping in the chair had.  
  
"I was just going for the clean clothing I have in the car. If I can get a shower first, I'll help you make breakfast and interpret Sholom Aleicham." She went out to the car park.  
  
It was a beautiful day for November. The bare tree branches made lace out of a clear blue sky. Birds hopped about the bushes, looking for the last berries. The traffic was minimal. It was too early on a Sunday morning for people to be out and about. She grabbed her bag and went back inside, spirits high from the freshness and the magic of it all. She also collected the Sunday papers at the door of the flat.  
  
After washing and brushing and all, Rose returned to the sitting room. Severus was gone to do his own ablutions. She turned to the kitchen and started exploring. With a little imagination she could pull off a decent breakfast with what she found, so she started cooking. Severus appeared just in time for omelets and juice, toast and rashers. Looking up at him under her lashes, she was startled to see him in a style of clothing she hadn't seen before. "Is that a new outfit you have on there?" she asked him.  
  
Sitting down at the table and pouring juice, he replied, "This is one that I chose. Hermione picked out a closet of clothes she thought suitable for a professor. I don't feel I do them justice."  
  
"I would say rather that they don't do you justice," Rose remarked. "Care for some toast?"  
  
They talked about Fiddler on the Roof: the Jews, Central Europe, pogroms and coming to America; then Israel, Palestine, the wars in the Middle East, the Bolshevik Revolution, World War II. She would tell him about the Muggle history, and he would fill in with the wizard's version.  
  
"My family came out of Central Europe, too, in the beginning of the last century, just about the same time as Tevye's family. We aren't Jews, as far as I know, although anything is possible when there is so much turmoil for so many generations. It is fair to assume we have some Swedish genes, at least. We were nominally Poles, although with the frequent border changes and shifting populations, we are sure to embody several gene pools. My grandparents called me Bozhenka, which I am told translates roughly into Rose. My parents chose Mallorn to honor Tolkien, as an Americanized version of the ancestral name." Rose ate the last bite of her omelet.  
  
Severus finished his toast. "My mother was from Wales, a town called Penclawdd. My father's family was from Snape Village many generations ago, hence the family name. Thank you for making breakfast, Rose; it was very tasty. I'll do the dishes later. Would you care to read the Sunday papers?"  
  
"I don't want to invade your privacy, Severus," Rose protested. "You are a very gracious host, but unplanned guests can be burdensome."  
  
"I prefer your company to my own, Rose," he replied. "I don't think you know how to be a burden; you are far too strong and independent. Is that an American trait, do you think?" He stood and took his dishes to the sink.  
  
"It is genetic, I think. I come from a long line of strong individuals, male and female. There is a lot of truth in the cliché about stubborn Polacks. Then there is modern American culture, with its strong feminist tide and rapidly changing events, which demand that women be independent and equal to any man." Rose paused. "You saw some of that rising tide in the video, I expect. The daughters gladly embrace change and break traditions, while their father struggles to keep up. The Jews were not known as shrinking violets, either, except when the power structure started to pound on them. Then they often turned the other cheek, tried to keep a low profile and pass unnoticed, or flee." She thought for a moment, as she rose and removed her dishes to the sink. "What did you think of the story? What impressed you?"  
  
"The music and dancing were good, and the plot moved quite well. The setting and cinematography were astounding. The dream sequence was quite a production. I think I identified with Motel the most of all the characters, though." He became rather tense and still.  
  
Rose was mystified. "Motel? Why?"  
  
"Because of something he said," Severus took her hands. "'Even a poor tailor is entitled to some happiness.'" quoth Severus, and then he gently kissed Rose. 


	22. Chapter 22: M is for the Million Things

Chapter 22: M is For the Million Things She Gave Me.  
  
Forehead, cheeks, then lips he kissed. Rose clung to him, returning the sweetness. Resting her head on his chest, she whispered, "Just like my dream."  
  
Severus looked down into her half-closed eyes. "What dream is this?"  
  
"Last night, I dreamt I was in a grove of elms in autumn, and a woman dressed in green, wearing an emerald pendant, and with curly black hair touched me, told me her name was Elizabeth, and asked me if I loved her son. She vanished and you appeared and kissed me just as you did now."  
  
Severus held her closer. "How did you answer her, Rose?"  
  
"I didn't answer, really." Rose had been broken of bad habits, like wearing one's heart on one's sleeve, and besides, she didn't know the answer, not yet. Still, she didn't let go of him, but held him tighter. She felt the need for some comfort.  
  
There was a loud whooshing noise from the sitting room. Severus released Rose with a sigh and went to investigate. Rose followed him in. A ghostly green fire was dying on the hearth, and a piece of parchment, folded and sealed, lay before it.  
  
"The old man has excellent timing, but refuses to tell me how he does it," Severus remarked, to himself. He picked up the missive, opened and read it, then, drawing a ballpoint pen from his pocket, wrote a reply on the back. From a pottery jar he took a pinch of dust, threw it on the hearth, then tossed in the parchment, which vanished with a flash of that same green fire.  
  
"Would you be willing to meet my Headmaster, Albus Dumbledore, Rose?" He loved to say her name. "He wants a report from me in person."  
  
Rose blinked. Too much novelty in too little time was beginning to  
dull her wits. "Where do we go? How long will it take us to get to him?"  
  
"He's coming here, now," said Severus, briefly, as the fireplace blazed alight again, and Dumbledore stepped out into the room.  
  
"Headmaster, may I present Rose Mallorn, who has been so helpful in my exploration of the Muggle side of London? Rose, this is Albus Dumbledore."  
  
Rose held out her hand, and Dumbledore clasped it firmly. His hand was still warm from the Floo powder. "Rose is also Hermione Granger's godmother, and as such, had previous knowledge of our existence." Although I was ignorant of that fact for weeks, he added to himself.  
  
"Miss Mallorn, it is indeed a pleasure. You have been invaluable." Albus gave her his patented, brightest twinkle. " I hope I am not disrupting your schedule, Severus."  
  
Professor Snape just gave Albus the Look. On this occasion, however, Albus had the grace to look abashed.  
  
"There's been an incident in Hogsmead. I am in need of your assistance. Madame Pomfrey has matters well in hand, and there are no casualties, for which we are all grateful. I have recalled Mr. Potter and Miss Granger already, and notified the Ministry. How soon can you leave?" Albus wasn't twinkling any more.  
  
"Rose must come also, Albus. She will need to be protected." More than that which was said aloud passed between the two wizards.  
  
"Very well, then. Miss Mallorn, through your association with wizards, you may have been spotted and targeted by one of the few surviving opponents of our late war. Your life and safety are imperiled. We would be able to protect you at Hogwarts, if you would be willing to come. You will not need to bring anything with you. You will be leaving directly."  
  
"What about the Grangers?" asked Rose.  
  
"The Grangers have already gone to Hogwarts. You can keep company with them." Albus was all business. "Shall we?"  
  
"How do you expect Rose to travel, Professor? Surely not by Floo?" Severus was looking angry.  
  
"Do you think you two could Apparate together? That would be the least upsetting method for a Muggle. It's best we assume you have been located already, and that returning to the Leaky Cauldron would not be advisable. You will leave from here. I will meet you at the gates." And with this, Dumbledore returned to Hogwarts via the flames.  
  
Severus drew his wand, set the strongest wards he knew upon the premises, then turned to Rose. "All you need to do is hold on and not panic. Do you think you can manage?"  
  
"If you think I can," she said. She clung to him again and shut her eyes; he dropped a quick kiss on her head, then gave the command to return to Hogwarts.  
  
*********************************************************************  
Author's Notes  
  
I started this work of fiction as therapy for myself; I am gratified that others are getting pleasure out of it. Your reviews have all been warm and generous and encouraging. Thank you for reading! Please continue to read, and feel free to comment on any aspect.  
  
Specific responses to readers:  
  
Nataly Ravenlock: Here comes some more!  
  
Ruth: Thank you. Hope the quality holds up.  
  
Amber-and-Ash: Thank you for the kind words. I just didn't want to give everything away in the summary description, mostly because I wasn't sure what was going to happen once I got started!  
  
Sinj: I conferred with Francesca Oldham concerning your point, and this is what she had to say:  
  
"My dear, I've been called Fanny for over 80 years now, and I'm too old to change now. Let the boors laugh at it if they will; Aidan will handle them."  
  
And Aidan Oldham added: "Fanny is a classic, let no one sneer at her or her name, or they will answer to me!"  
  
Excessivelyperky: I agree that there is nothing like torture by in-laws, especially the friendly ones, but we're getting way ahead of ourselves here. Both individuals in question have been badly damaged, and getting them together is giving me massive fits. But since I'd much rather stay up nights working out their problems (as opposed to my own, which seem insoluable), there should be some progress soon.  
  
Innermost Thoughts: That is the nicest thing anybody has ever said to me: Thank you!  
  
Wytil: Sorry, Rose is as Muggle as they come; still, she could take on a partner in the business.  
  
Samson: Thank you, hope the wait isn't too long.  
  
Lillinfields: Hair does grow back; don't worry!  
  
N snape: More on the way. 


	23. Chapter 23: Fortune's Hostages

Chapter 23: Fortune's Hostages  
  
"We are here; you can let go now," Severus said.  
  
Rose opened her eyes, but did not loosen her grip on him. She found herself in a field at the edge of a gloomy forest. An ancient hut of wattle and daub crouched further down to her left where a cultivated lawn petered out into wild grasses. The sky was cloudy, the air moist with a chill of approaching winter. Striding toward them were Dumbledore and Hermione. Catching sight of them, Rose finally released her grip. Severus reached around his neck and pulled out a silver chain, which he pulled over his head and placed around her neck. It was Elizabeth's emerald pendant. Rose stroked the stone and felt that it was intaglio, but there wasn't enough light that she could make out the carving. She tucked it into her shirt as her goddaughter and the Headmaster came within speaking distance.  
  
"Severus, I've put the Grangers up in Hagrid's hut. The approaches to Hogwarts are blocked. Hermione will escort Rose to the hut and stay with them as security," Albus Dumbledore was not even breathing hard, but Hermione was. "Rose will wear Harry's cloak as a further precaution. If you will follow me, we have some unwanted guests to repel."  
  
Hermione wrapped Rose in the Invisibility cloak, and the two women set off for the hut.  
  
"What exactly has been going on, Albus?" asked Snape.  
  
"Bellatrix LeStrange is here with some of the criminal element. They attacked under her command in Hogsmead, burned down some shops and terrorized the villagers, who suffered only minor injuries, smoke inhalation and contusions, mostly. While the staff set out with the Seventh Years to guard and patrol Hogsmead, the attackers surrounded Hogwarts. The wards are holding, and the Floo system is secure, so all we have to do is capture them." Albus spoke while jogging back towards the castle.  
  
"Bella must be insane to think she can accomplish anything. Perhaps she wishes for death." Severus Transfigured his Muggle attire to wizard's robes. As the castle came into view, they slowed and took cover in the shrubbery. "I don't see anyone."  
  
Dumbledore cast a Discovery charm. "There's no one here. The siege is abandoned."  
  
Hermione was moving as fast as she could towards Hagrid's hut, while Rose followed, struggling to keep covered with the cloak while not tripping on it. There was no sign of life, no smoke from the chimney, no faces at the windows. Hermione slowed and then ducked into the woods. With softly muttered incantations and strokes of her wand, Hermione searched for an answer.  
  
"What's the matter, Hermione?" Rose panted.  
  
"Hagrid didn't come to the door," Hermione said. "And the fire is out. I think we'd better go back to the professors."  
  
"Your parents are supposed to be in there." Rose was getting alarmed. This was a situation that she was completely unequipped to handle. "Can you tell if there are any people inside?"  
  
"No, I can't pass the wards." Hermione bit her lip. "Stay here, and stay covered. I am going to the back door. Perhaps I can peek in a window."  
  
"You had better take this cloak, then," ordered Rose. "Unless you can make yourself undetectable. I'll stay in the bushes."  
  
Hermione thought very hard. "All right, but don't come out unless I give the password: your daughter's name." Wrapping herself in Harry Potter's cloak, Hermione vanished from Rose's sight.  
  
Rose was quietly crouching in a thicket when she heard a twig snap. She crouched even lower and stopped breathing. "Allez allez in free" called a woman, who sounded both playful and deranged. "I see you, dearie, come out now and you'll stay in one piece." Rose did not move. "No? Very well, take her prisoner, gently now." Two thugs grabbed Rose by the arms, lifting her out of the bushes. "Another Muggle! The woods are full of them this time of year. Let's take her back to the hut and stash her with the others."  
  
Rose was frog-marched into Hagrid's hut. There were John and Melanie and Hermione Granger, bound with cords. Otherwise the hut was empty. With the addition of Rose, the two men holding her, and the woman in charge, the room became quite crowded.  
  
"Now, who might you be?" asked the woman. "Let me introduce myself, first: Bellatrix LeStrange, fresh out of prison and looking for a helping hand to get back on my feet." Rose was silent. Bella raised her wand. "Imperio!" she cried. The green flash of the Unforgivable curse surrounded Rose, but did not touch her. Instead, it intensified, pulsing, and struck Bella and her thugs, so that they dropped to the floor unconscious.  
  
"Rose! Snatch their wands!" cried Hermione.  
  
Rose did as she was told, with direction from the captives. "Where is a knife? I'll cut you loose."  
  
"That won't work, Auntie, the bonds are magical. Just bring me the wands. That one, the redwood, that's mine. Put it in my right hand." Hermione soon freed herself and her parents, bound the attackers, and cursed them into a petrified and unconscious state. "What did you do, Auntie? Why did the spell backfire?"  
  
"I don't know." Rose felt drained, beyond the effects of fear.  
  
"Mum, Dad, where's Hagrid?" Hermione was taking charge of the situation.  
  
Rose didn't stay upright long enough to hear the answer. She sank to the floor in a faint, as Dumbledore, Severus and Hagrid burst into the hut. 


	24. Chapter 24: None of the Above

Chapter 24: None of the Above  
  
Rose opened her eyes to find that she was lying in a strange bed, again. It appeared that she was in an old-fashioned hospital ward. She turned her head to see Severus Snape in an armchair beside her bed, fast asleep. She was so tired, and so very thirsty, that clearing her throat produced a gurgling noise but no relief. The man in the armchair, however, woke and brought a glass to her lips as he raised her up to drink. After a few swallows, she whispered, "Ever since I started hanging around with you, I keep waking up in places I've never been before."  
  
"And I don't think I ever slept so much in a chair before in my life," he replied. "How do you feel?"  
  
"I am tired, drained. Nothing hurts; nothing feels broken. What happened?" Rose lay back and closed her eyes again.  
  
"You repelled an Unforgivable curse. Just exactly how did you do it?" Severus asked.  
  
"I didn't do anything," she sighed. "I don't know how to do anything."  
  
Madame Pomfrey and Albus Dumbledore came in during the questions. "I think Rose was the reservoir, and this pendant the engine." He held Elizabeth Snape's pendant in his hand. "Your mother wasn't a classically trained witch, Severus."  
  
"She wasn't trained at all," he replied. "Her talents didn't manifest themselves until after she was grown, so she studied with her grandmother, who was more a Druid than anything else. That pendant was originally Great- grandmother's; I've worn it since Mother's death, and it has never defended me against curses. It didn't even defend my mother from her husband's curse."  
  
"He infected her with a disease. She died of a natural illness, not a magical one." Dumbledore replied. Severus closed his eyes in pain. "At the time, nobody knew about the cause of such cancers, and there still is no cure in the advanced stages. But this synergy between Rose and her pendant, that is something new to me. I've asked Hermione to do some research in the library. We shall see if she turns up anything."  
  
"If you are all through interrogating my patient, I would like to continue her cure. I am Madame Pomfrey, Rose, but you may call me Poppy. Are you ready for some food?"  
  
At this, Rose's stomach gave off a very loud growling noise. "Well, I think that answers that question. When Rose is sleeping again, will you come up to my office, Severus? Some food and drink and rest, and you should both be back on your feet in time for the next dancing class. Make sure he eats, too, my dear." Albus gave the pendant back to Severus, bid Rose 'bon appetit' and departed. Poppy scurried off to summon food from the kitchens.  
  
"I realize this hasn't been the best introduction to Hogwarts or to the magical world for you. Wherever the light is brighter, the shadows are much darker." Severus had a bitter look on his face. "I wasn't even there to protect you." He hung the pendant around her neck again.  
  
"But you did protect me with your mother's charm," Rose protested. "You did exactly right." Poppy entered with a cart loaded with enough food for four.  
  
"Dumb luck doesn't count for much with us," Severus replied. He took a tray from Poppy and started to spoon soup into Rose.  
  
"It's better than no luck at all. Trust me." Rose retorted. "I have to contact my customer and explain why I am not on the job. Do you have your cell phone, Russ?"  
  
"It's already Wednesday. What are you going to say?" Severus remarked absently.  
  
"Wednesday! I've been asleep three days!" Rose was startled into silence, mechanically eating as he fed her. "I'll tell the customer I've been hospitalized with influenza."  
  
"That would be one way to describe it," Severus smiled.  
  
*******************************************************  
  
After feeding Rose and eating some himself, Severus Snape retired to his rooms, where he showered and dressed in his Hogwarts robes. Rose had drifted off directly after he kissed her. He didn't need to provide any inducement, for which he was grateful. He was reluctant to find out what effects any form of magic might have on her and her surroundings until they could test under controlled conditions.  
  
When Snape met the Headmaster in his chambers, Albus expressed similar misgivings. "It is fortunate that everything turned out so well for us. I don't know what Bella used on Hagrid to knock him out, and neither does he. His memory has been wiped. Hermione said that Bella didn't get any information from Rose, and the Grangers also didn't provide anything, not even their names. The Aurors are not getting much from Bella, either, but they do know how she escaped. Peter Pettigrew wormed his way into Azkaban. I never thought he had it in him, but with the absence of the Dementors, prison isn't what it used to be. At least Bella is locked up again. Security has been tightened to account for Animagi." Albus popped a lemon sherbet into his mouth. "Severus, about Rose."  
  
"I will be offering for her, once she is fully aware of what it would mean to live in a magical world. If she declines to join me in this culture, I will offer to join her in hers." Severus Snape was back in business. The mask of indifference, the haughty sneer, every protective measure he had ever adopted was deployed.  
  
"I believe that you both will find your way together. I am happy for you, too." Albus wasn't twinkling, though. "But what I wanted to say concerns her performance at Hagrid's. Severus, Rose is unique. I have never seen nor heard of any talent like hers. There must be some testing to try to define the extent of her abilities, latent or not. Is she a Muggle, a witch, or something else entirely? And if the last, what? I think we could do a better job of diagnosis than any Muggle scientist. I want you to convince her to find out, for all our sakes."  
  
"Of course, Headmaster." Severus rose. "If you will excuse me, I will go see how the Potions classes are running in my absence." 


	25. Chapter 25: Cul de Sac

Chapter 25: Cul de Sac  
  
By Thursday, Rose was ambulatory, and on Friday she had a short tour of Hogwarts and joined the school for dinner in the Great Hall. After dinner, Severus suggested that they stay the weekend at Hogwarts, but Rose protested that they would miss the first tango class. Against his better judgment, and with promises to drag her off to her bed at the first sign of weakness, Severus Apparated to his flat with Rose in his arms and changed into his Muggle clothes. They then drove to her flat so that she could change, and took a taxi to the dance hall.  
  
Severus found the tango soothing. He liked the gliding steps, the music, and the chance to hold Rose very close. She was very quiet, concentrating on the steps of the dance and trying to keep up the appearance of complete health. He let her believe that he was fooled, but he had persuaded her to leave the pendant off, so that he could cast a modified spell to decrease the pull of the earth on her body. He wore the pendant himself, for safekeeping. Afterwards as they rode back to his place, he gave it back to her.  
  
"Rose, would you consider moving into my flat? I could cast wards to protect you, without limiting your freedom." Severus was feeling fear of loss all the time. Happiness wasn't an unmixed blessing.  
  
"Why not cast wards on my flat? Or, if magic is detectable by wizards, would I not be safer in the anonymity of an unremarkable, unwarded flat where no magic has ever been done?" Rose was tired, but not brain dead. She wanted to know what Severus really had in mind.  
  
You would be safest married to me and living at Hogwarts, Severus thought, but he did not voice that idea. After all, taking her to Hogwarts for shelter had turned out to be anything but safe. "Let us continue this discussion inside. Are you up to the effort?" he asked.  
  
"Your place?" she smiled. "Oh, very well, but don't get the idea that I am that easily persuaded into things."  
  
***********************************************************  
  
Severus didn't get a chance to persuade Rose into anything. Once she was settled in front of the blazing hearth, she took five minutes to fall soundly asleep. Severus picked her up and with a sigh laid her on Hermione's bed again. Slytherin stealth wasn't getting the job done. It was time he thought of some other tactics.  
  
After an evening of surfing the net, and some fairly restful sleep, Severus awoke and realized that something was wrong. It was after 10 AM and Rose was not stirring. He knocked on her door, and hearing no answer, entered. Rose was huddled under tightly wrapped covers, shivering. Severus took stock of the situation and summoned Madame Pomfrey. That worthy lady arrived shortly by Floo, and after a few minutes of examination, determined that Rose actually did have influenza. She prescribed various potions for fever and immune response, copious liquids, and bed rest. After Poppy departed, Severus summoned Dobby. Dobby would be able to care for Rose while Severus returned to his duties at Hogwarts. So Rose stayed at the flat as he had suggested.  
  
While Severus had tried to arouse Rose's attention sufficiently to introduce the House Elf and explain the plan Sunday evening, he wasn't entirely successful. When her fever broke Tuesday, Rose shrieked at the sight of Dobby at her bedside. Fortunately, Severus had left behind a brief note of explanation, and Dobby and Rose were soon getting well acquainted. Rose was too weak for much of anything, but she would always find Dobby waiting when she awoke, and would pepper him with questions about elves and wizards and Hogwarts and people, until the information overload caused her to drop off again.  
  
Severus sent her brief notes every evening by Floo, and she made the effort to answer them. She implored him not to come back until she was well and the flat disinfected, so he would not become ill in turn. Dobby had assured her that Elves were not prone to contracting human illnesses, and she was grateful for the kindness and caring that Dobby lavished on her. She wanted to repay him in some way.  
  
"Mistress has no need to pay Dobby! Professor Dumbledore already pays Dobby handsomely. Mistress is very kind and gracious. Dobby would gladly take service with Mistress and Master once they marry and set up housekeeping, or if Mistress likes, Dobby knows of another Elf named Winky who is looking for a good family to serve." Dobby's bulging green eyes were tearing up with the thought. "The Master is so much happier now. Elves are happiest in a happy house with happy people."  
  
"Hold on, Dobby! Who said I was marrying anybody?" Rose had been fully briefed on several years of Hogwarts gossip already, but this was something new.  
  
"Dobby is only thinking that the Master is in love, and the Mistress is, too, and that they must be in love with each other. Mistress wears the Master's pendant. That pendant is very old; Dobby heard about it from his grandsire."  
  
"Well, Dobby, you must tell Professor Snape all you know about this pendant when he returns. It is very important. And as for marriage, I haven't been asked, yet, so do not get your hopes up. Besides, I am not sure it would be wise for a Muggle to marry a wizard, especially Professor Snape. He has a position of importance in wizard society. The other wizards would take offense. I would be a burden to a Magical society. I cannot do anything."  
  
"Other wizards and witches have married non-magical people before, and their children come to Hogwarts to learn. Dobby knows many of the students have Muggle mothers or fathers. Some have both! Professor Dumbledore welcomes any folk who serve the Light, even half-giants and werewolves! Why, even Professor Snape." Dobby suddenly stopped, like a faucet being turned off.  
  
"What about Professor Snape, Dobby?"  
  
"Mistress mustn't take alarm; Master was a Death Eater, but only to spy on the Dark Lord and defeat him. Master is really good, and since Mistress has come, Master is much better every day. Master has always been kind to House Elves and ghosts and everybody, even though he was very hard on the students sometimes but he is much nicer nowadays. And he was not well-liked when he was a student, either, but his enemies are all dead now, or have turned into friends, and Master is a much better person to everyone."  
  
"What is a Death Eater, Dobby? And who is the Dark Lord?"  
  
*********************************************************************  
  
On Friday afternoon, Professor Snape wrapped up his last class, tidied the Potions Lab, packed up his homework, and met with Hermione and Dumbledore. Hermione had competently handled all the tasks he had dropped on her, and Dumbledore praised them both for the results of their collaboration. Then their talk turned to the Ministry's Muggle project. After much discussion, it was decided that Professor Snape should submit a list of areas in Muggle society where wizards could make a valuable contribution, and some possible Muggle contacts to be determined from his research and through his widening circle of acquaintances. On the other hand, areas where Muggles could contribute to wizard society were also to be listed, with possible Muggle contacts and suppliers. The area of diplomacy was beyond the scope of this investigation, and they would recommend that the proper authorities tackle that issue, after suitable orientation. Finally, the subject of Muggle Studies was to be redefined for students and additional study material prepared for non-students, with possible instructors suggested. Hermione and Harry would be taking classes on field studies in the New Year, and faculty would be invited to take weekend culture tours or explore another chosen field. Connecting Hogwarts to the World Wide Web was also discussed.  
  
"Rose Mallorn would be a good instructor and tour guide, Headmaster. She has knowledge in both the cultural and the technological areas. Her opinions are measured and always backed by facts." Severus the lover was trying desperately to remain casual and professional, and not too eager.  
  
"Yes, she is a very impressive individual," replied Dumbledore. "I think we can present Arthur Weasley with a useful set of recommendations and observations in the next few weeks. When you have the reports prepared, Severus, let us meet and go over them. And now I am sure that you are planning to go check on your instructor. I do hope she is on the mend."  
  
"She has passed the crisis point of the influenza. Dobby is taking excellent care of her." Severus stood to go. "If that is all, Headmaster?"  
  
After Professor Snape left the room, Hermione remarked, "He's got it bad, Professor."  
  
"I agree," said Dumbledore. "Let's hope the lady does, too." 


	26. Chapter 26: The Chickens Come Home to Ro...

Chapter 26: The Chickens Come Home to Roost  
  
Severus Snape strolled to the gates of Hogwarts, Apparated to the Leaky Cauldron, and then decided to walk to the London flat and think on the way. When his report to the Ministry was complete, he would not have an official reason to visit London. To continue down every weekend would be to advertise his pursuit of Muggle diversions, or of one Muggle in particular, and either scenario offended his Slytherin sensibilities.  
  
The shops were starting to look festive for Christmas. One in particular, a florist, caught his eye with a sign: "Flowers for Your Lady". He pushed open the door and found himself facing a very short, rotund and cheerful woman. "Flowers for your lady, sir?" she chirped in Cockney accents.  
  
"What would you recommend?" Severus was comforted by all the greenery and fragrance. He remembered his mother's gardens, and the happy quiet times he shared with her.  
  
"Wot's the occasion? Birthday, anniversary, friendship, 'ostess gift, just because..Oh, sir, don't tell me! Proposal?" the shopkeeper clapped her hands in delight. "I 'ardly ever get anyone who's proposin' anymore! It's out of fashion, marriage; the blokes are too afraid of givin' up their freedom, and the ladies are tired of waitin' for the men to realize that freedom is overrated." She bustled about the counter. "Which stage are you up to, then?" Severus looked confused. ""Ow long you been seein' 'er?"  
  
"Six weeks," Severus replied. This proposing business sounded complicated.  
  
"An' you've made up your mind already? That's magic, inn'it?" Severus gave the woman a startled glance. "Have you met her family? Has she met yours? Is everyone pleased?" She started rummaging in the coolers. "Course, nowadays, things change so fast, if you see wot you want, you have to grab it and hold on or Fate snatches it away." She hauled out two buckets of roses and another of more exotic plants. "Now it used 'ter be folks took their time, and started with one rose, white or blush, and worked their way up to a full bookay of red musks, so as to not scare off the lady, let her get used to the idea." She showed him samples of each variety. "If time was short, like during wartimes, then a mix, not too large, but sincere, was the way to go. Is your lady high fashion?" She waved bird of paradise under his nose. "Romantic? Younger than you, or older?"  
  
"She and I are roughly the same age; she is nursing old wounds from previous love gone sour. She has met all my family and friends, I have met only her English connexions. She is smart and funny, playful, sweet and thoughtful." Severus thought hard. "I would say she was passionate, more than romantic. And she is recovering from the influenza."  
  
"Influenza will leave you feeling like death, to be sure," said the florist. "Let me think a moment. How much time do you have to win her?" Severus looked at her in despair. "Not much. Well, then..wot you need is a campaign, a plan of attack." She ripped a piece of gold foil off the dispenser, laid red, pink and white roses and a mixture of smaller blooms and greenery in a pleasing arrangement, and wrapped it all together into a cone tied with white lace ribbon. "Nine roses, not too many, not too few, enough to be serious but not pushy, get it? You get to talk about the way time is flyin' away, how tragic it would be to waste it, but don't lean too 'ard on the poor girl, she ain't feelin' up to it yet. You better nail down those foreigners, tho'. It don't pay to leave loose ends lyin' about. Perhaps you can bring her by this weekend, so's I can evaluate the situation and advise yeh further." She handed him the bouquet. " That's 5 pound and the advice is free. Don't give up, sir, and don't panic. I've brought many a couple through the stages in me life. Violet is the name, Violet Watkins. I was marked at birth for this business, you might say." She shook hands with Severus and handed him a business card.  
  
"Russ Snape, Violet. Thank you for your assistance. I shall follow your advice." Severus tipped his hat and set off for the flat again, reviewing on the way the torrent of data the Violet the florist had showered over his head. Feeling a bit giddy, Severus decided that some wine might be comforting, for both of them, and he stopped in another shop to purchase a fruity red vintage.  
  
Violet had a point there, concerning Rose's foreign roots. He didn't really know all that much about her past, other than that she had come to England to escape it, and she didn't know much about his past, since he hadn't felt safe enough to tell her about the parts he wanted forgotten. It was going to be a busy weekend, to be sure.  
  
***************************************************************  
  
Rose looked out the window at the gathering gloom. The sun never pierced the clouds all day, and now the light was fading into another cold and windy November night. Her head was clear, and she had no fever; she had washed and dressed in a warm long dressing gown Dobby had procured in some fashion; she wasn't going to ask. The gown was green to match the emerald at her throat. Dobby had brought fuzzy slipper boots to match, so she was warm enough. After sorting through and answering her email, which took most of the morning, Rose had read and dozed the afternoon away. She wasn't up to much. Dancing class was totally beyond her strength. Still, Severus could go without her. The thought left her feeling quite blue. She was presuming he would appear tonight, in the absence of any written commitment, but he didn't have to show. At that moment she noticed a man in the street, bearing wine and flowers, wrapped in a Burberry coat with a fedora, and she knew his stride. Severus had returned, bearing gifts. He really is sweet, she thought. She wasn't willing to take that thought any further, though. She felt very shy, and debated retiring to the bedroom, when he glanced up from the street and saw her in the window. The streetlight shown on his face, and she saw not a smile, not a frown, but a look she hadn't seen directed at her, ever. It was rich in nuances, unguarded, so complex that she didn't believe she read his expression correctly. She grasped the pendant at her throat, and he saw that, so she raised her hand in greeting and with a smile, turned to open the door.  
  
Severus came in, put down his parcels on the hall table, shed coat and hat and handed them to the House Elf, who materialized as he entered. "Dobby, would you be so good as to hang these up to dry?" Severus then turned to Rose and taking her hands in his, kissed each one in turn. "How are you, Rose?" he murmured, and with one arm, circled her waist. With the other he reached for the bouquet and handed it to her, then took the wine and walked them both over to the hearth, where Dobby had built a first-rate fire. They sat on the loveseat where Rose had reclined most of the afternoon.  
  
Rose looked up in his face, still shy, still bemused by his open expression of thoughts otherwise unexpressed. He touched her forehead, "No fever, I see," and his hand continued down to cup her cheek, and then he leant forward and kissed her lips. Rose felt a fever rising suddenly, but it wasn't from flu. He didn't hold her, save the one hand, which slid under her hair to cradle the back of her head. She was free to pull away, but instead she set the bouquet down on the loveseat and put her hands on his shoulders, not to embrace him, but not to push him away either. "By the end of the month my project should be finished, and I will not have an official reason to return to London. I would very much like you to come to Hogwarts with me, to stay. Would you consider marrying me, Rose?"  
  
Rose was caught completely off guard and with her defenses down. She stared in his eyes, searching for falseness. All's fair in love and war, thought Severus, and he proceeded to utilize his Legilimens skills. For each memory she let slip, he supplied one of his own, and so they continued with wordless communication for a quarter of an hour, with a murmured word, or a slight touch to affirm or acknowledge each exchange. At last she closed her eyes in exhaustion, but he heard one last thought: "Take me to bed, please," and after he set her down in Hermione's room, one word: "Stay!"  
  
Dobby returned to the sitting room and rescued the flowers, setting them in a vase on the dinner table. All the food he had prepared could wait for the Master and Mistress to return. Dobby put the wine on ice to chill. He sensed the wards on the Mistress' room, and rubbed his hands with pleasure. Master and Mistress would found a happy family, and Dobby would be part of it, and if Winky also agreed, there could be two happy families together! 


	27. Chapter 27: In Vino, Veritas

Chapter 27: In Vino Veritas  
  
"Shall I hex your Ex?" Severus inquired.  
  
Rose giggled: a result of rhyme and wine. "Which one?" They were finally eating dinner, drinking the wine he had brought home, enjoying the bouquet especially designed by Violet Watkins for a night like this.  
  
"Both," Severus was living up to his name. "To abandon commitments and shed responsibilities like soiled linen is cowardice."  
  
"You say that because you are a man; they were only boys." Rose was in a forgiving mood. "I was sufficiently able to deal with it."  
  
"Any male over 18 is much too old to behave like a boy, Rose, and you are too gentle. A heart is not to be crushed underfoot, and certainly not three hearts in one blow. Just because one can cope, is no reason for one's partner to hare off."  
  
"No, but it is the new, corporate American way. I'm not at all gentle, just a realist. You can't get love from a stone, and murder is a crime. I will leave their punishments up to their wives. I am sure that the father of my children had a lot of explaining to do, when he had to ask her for money to pay his overdue child support to avoid jail." Rose sighed. "Besides, if things had worked out differently, I wouldn't be here, now, with you."  
  
"There is that consideration," said the wizard, but he inventoried his memory for some spells sufficiently efficacious, in the event he ever had an opportunity.  
  
"It would be very amusing, though, to meet up with 'Boy' Number 2. He thought I was a witch, because I could anticipate and counter every sleazy little game he tried. He never realized that I had a doctorate in bad guy behavior by then. I also needed to develop my observational skills, to deal with a stone-faced husband and an autistic child. He was such a poor dissembler, but he tried, damn him! They both did." She took a prolonged drink from her wineglass.  
  
"I am not yet convinced you aren't a witch, Rose, and neither is Professor Dumbledore," Severus frowned. "Perhaps only a squib, but there is more to you than meets the eye."  
  
"Nobody could have such bad luck as I have and have a drop of magic," Rose replied, "Unless there is a kind of anti-magic. I have gallons of that."  
  
There was a pause. "When shall I meet your children, then?" Severus said gently.  
  
"They come over at Christmas to visit. John brings Sarah, and bitterly complains all the time about it, but as long as I'm paying his way, he co-operates." She sighed. "If you could put the best parts of the two together, I would have one perfect offspring."  
  
"That is the flaw in sexual reproduction," Severus remarked. "There is no lifeguard in the gene pool. A joke, courtesy of the Internet."  
  
Rose got rather pale. "Russ, I am well past the best childbearing years. I may not be fertile at all any more. You don't have any children yet, do you?"  
  
"No, and that may be a good thing," he replied. "I am not in need of children for myself, and there is no other family to nag me about it. Whatever happens, as long as you and I are together, will be fine. I want you: not your genes, or money, or connexions; just you." He rose, and pulled her to her feet. "Ready for dessert?"  
  
*************************************************************  
  
Saturday morning brought sunlight pouring like liquid gold across the bedclothes. Rose awoke and stretched like a cat. She hadn't felt so relaxed and well in a long time. She contemplated the dark-haired wizard in her bed. He was warm and still as a sleeping child. She was still afraid to wake him. She did not yet know what his startle reflex would be, and didn't want to find out by accident. She slipped out of the room for a bath.  
  
"Good morning, Mistress," chirped Dobby.  
  
"Dobby, could you call me Rose? Where I come from there are no House Elves or any servants, and I am not used to this."  
  
"Of course, Mistress Rose! Dobby is honoured!" Dobby bowed deeply, beside himself with glee. "There is a letter from the Floo for the Master."  
  
"He's still asleep," Rose replied. "Let him get a little more rest, if it isn't urgent."  
  
She was blanketed in bubbles when there was a knock on the bathroom door. "What is it, Dobby?" she called.  
  
"It's not Dobby, Rose," Severus replied. "Will you be very long?"  
  
"I can be out in five minutes if you wish."  
  
"I just have something to ask you, several things, in fact." Severus sounded amused.  
  
"I'd invite you in, but the door is locked," Rose replied. "Force of habit, I suppose."  
  
"Alohamora!" said Severus, and he entered. "Not a problem." He sat on the edge of the tub. "We are invited to the Weasleys this evening, the two of us, for an informal family dinner. Molly wants to look you over, I suppose. Hermione will be there, and Harry Potter, who you must meet eventually anyway. He spends all his free time at the Burrow, since Molly gives him all the mothering he never had."  
  
"I haven't anything suitable to wear in this flat," Rose replied. "And I would really like to dress appropriately for wizarding society. Where do wizards get their robes, or aren't I entitled to wear them?"  
  
"We'll go to Madame Malkin's after lunch; I'm sure she can suggest something appropriate. The Weasley grandchild will be there, no doubt. Do you think you are contagious?"  
  
"I'll look it up on the Internet." Rose was excited to be going out at all after two hard weeks of recovery; going to a wizard's home was just that much more of a thrill. She had a million questions to ask. Molly Weasley might be a good source of information. "Have you ever been there before?"  
  
"No, I haven't. I don't want to take you by Floo, so I will just pop over now to get a heading so that we will be able to Apparate."  
  
"Do you think we could find some more of that wine you bought? It would be a good gift for the hostess."  
  
"We will do all of that, as soon as you get out of that tub. Would you like some help?" and he untied the sash of his dressing gown.  
  
*********************************************************************  
  
Madame Malkin's dusty little shop was a real adventure for Rose, a time trip to a more genteel era. Madame Malkin was attentive and fussed over every detail, from undergarments to cloak and boots. Then she and Rose were able to persuade Severus Snape, the old black bat himself, to invest in something a little less drab and severe. The transformation in them both was startling, as they stood side by side in the large mirror.  
  
"Slytherin colours suit you so well, my dear," Madame gushed. "Of course, you would look well in other shades, midnight blue, plum, peach perhaps."  
  
"Gold would make a suitable wedding dress," remarked Severus. "A burnished, antique gold."  
  
"Oh, Professor and Madame, may I offer you congratulations? When is the wedding?" Madame Malkin was a bit astonished, but a sale is a sale, and an honour is an honour, and dressing a Snape bride was never less than an honour, be she Muggle or witch.  
  
"We will be setting a date soon, after some of the details are nailed down. Would you be willing to help Rose plan a trousseau? I will give you the address and you two can communicate by Floo." Severus was not willing to let any grass grow under Rose's feet. He remembered Aidan Oldham's admonishment to his wife of 60 years: Tempus Fugit!  
  
****************************************************************  
  
"How do I look, Severus?"  
  
Rose was becoming more nervous by the second. After an afternoon in Diagon Alley, including an engagement ring which left her speechless (emerald, of course, not small, but tastefully set in a snake motif), and a tour of Flourish and Blotts, plus an hour or two of briefing on wizard governance and the functions of the Ministry and a list of the Weasley children and their school careers (although Severus avoided stopping at Weasleys Wizard Wheezes, just on general principles), Rose was filled with new sights, sounds, faces and ideas sufficient to upset the steadiest person.  
  
"You look like my dream come true, Rose." He smiled. "Just remember to breathe once in a while. You are going to have to start eating better, too. You must have lost a stone between the curse and the influenza. I didn't even need assistance when carrying you last night. It wouldn't do to fall ill again so soon. People would say I wasn't taking good care of you."  
  
Rose was a bit shocked at that. How often does a woman hear that she should eat more? "I'll do my best,' she said, "and no one has ever cared for me the way you do." She stretched up on tiptoes to kiss him, and found herself fully engaged for several minutes. "Enough now, or we will be more than fashionably late at this rate!"  
  
They Apparated in the back garden of the Burrow a few moments later. Severus took her hand and escorted Rose to the door. Molly Weasley was on the lookout with her red hair in two rolled buns on either side of her forehead; she opened the door wide, waving her hand, which was holding a rolling pin, and calling, "Come in! Come in! You've found the right place!"  
  
Rose stopped dead in the lane. "My God!" she said. "It's Mrs. Lovett!"  
  
Severus looked at Rose, then at Molly, and then laughed the deepest belly laugh any of the three of them had ever heard issue forth from the Potion Master's mouth.  
  
Author's Note: A Merry Christmas to all the merry readers, and many thanks for your kind reviews. May your holidays be filled with Light! 


	28. Chapter 28: The Snake Domestic

Chapter 28: The Snake Domestic  
  
After a round of greetings and introductions, hugs and cloaks hung by the door, Rose was able to look about her. Privately, she thought Arthur Weasley would be doing the architectural world a great service by tearing down the Burrow and starting over. Still, there was a hominess that comes of long occupation and accommodation, a feeling she hadn't known in years. Rose had yet to build a house for herself, or to devote any time to homemaking since the end of her marriage ten years ago. She could settle now, she thought, and looked over at Severus Snape, resplendent in new threads: Slytherin green and black, with silver buttons and a snowy white shirt. His hair was getting long, but she liked it. There wasn't a thing about him she didn't like, she decided. As if she had shouted out loud at the top of her lungs, his head snapped up, and he gave her a smile of such warmth and happiness that she quite forgot to breathe for a bit.  
  
Molly settled them all in the parlor, where a beautiful young woman sat with a baby in her arms. Both mother and child had near-white hair floating in the air around their faces, and sky blue eyes. "This is my daughter-in-law, Fleur, and her daughter Marguerite. Fleur married my eldest, Bill. Marguerite is 3 months old now. Fleur, this is Rose Mallorn. You remember Professor Snape?"  
  
" 'Ow do you do, Rose? I am pleased to meet you. Good ev'ning, Professor." Fleur was from France, evidently. Rose suddenly had to absorb the thought that magic was everywhere, perhaps even back home in the U.S. of A. She felt a little dizzy.  
  
"Aunt Rose! You came! Fleur, Rose is my godmother, from America." Hermione bounced into the room, acting only half her 22 years. "Rose is a builder of houses. Would you like a tour of the Burrow, Auntie?"  
  
"If Molly doesn't mind," said Rose.  
  
"I'd be delighted to show you around, Rose," said the lady of the house. "Let's start in the kitchen!"  
  
***********************************************************  
  
After an exhaustive tour of every room and every feature of the Burrow, Rose and Molly were in the attics. "Tired, Rose? We can sit here a minute and catch our breath." Molly fanned herself with her apron. "However did you get Severus out of those black rags? He looks transformed. He laughed! Albus will never believe it."  
  
"Well, after I had been outfitted by Madame Malkin, I insisted he had to look equally fine. He did clean up nicely."  
  
"It's more than the clothes, dear," Molly said. "He is living, for the first time in his life." Molly hesitated. "I know it's none of my business, Rose, but do you know what you are doing? You are a Muggle, and American."  
  
"I am marrying Severus Snape," replied Rose. "Whether I know what I am doing or not. I am hoping that, with the help of friends, I can be a credit to him, and not a burden."  
  
"Well you may count on my help anytime," replied Molly. "You've done some magic unawares, even if it isn't the usual kind. What are your plans for the future?"  
  
"We will be living near Hogwarts. I hope to build my dream house there. I will continue with my business, at least at first, while Severus does his teaching and research. Perhaps we can still get down to London occasionally; we both enjoy the cultural events. And then we go on from there." Rose shrugged.  
  
"We'd best go down; dinner should be ready by now." Molly held out her hands to the Muggle woman. "Best wishes, Rose."  
  
*************************************************************  
  
They entered the parlor to find it deserted, save for Severus, holding the baby. The baby stared up at him while sucking on her fist; he contemplated her gravely.  
  
"What are you doing, Professor?" cried Molly.  
  
"First her mamma hands her off to Bill and disappears, then Bill hands her off to Arthur and he disappears, then Arthur decides to look for you, and I am left holding the baby." He never raised his eyes. "She doesn't seem to mind being a football, though I could easily hand her off to you, Molly, since you are here."  
  
"I have dinner to attend to. Why don't you hand her off to Rose, if you need a break?" Molly whisked out the door, while Rose came over to pick up Marguerite.  
  
"She's dry, at least," Rose murmured. She sat down next to Severus and gazed on the fairy child. "She is so beautiful, and that hair! I thought Fleur was Swedish until she spoke."  
  
"Fleur is part veela. Do you know what veela are?"  
  
"Is it like the song in The Merry Widow?" Rose asked.  
  
"I don't know the song," said Severus. "Can you sing it?"  
  
Rose thought a moment. "I don't know the original German, but this is a translation:  
  
The night is romantic and I am alone. In vain through my window the moonlight is thrown. "Oh, Vilia my Vilia!" Oh yes, that's the tune, The song of the shepherd who cried for the moon  
  
Vilia, oh Vilia, oh let me be true; My little life is a love song to you. Vilia, oh Vilia, I've waited so long; Lonely with only a song. Vilia, oh Vilia, don't leave me alone! Love calls to love and my heart is your own. Vilia, oh Vilia, I've waited so long; Lonely with only a song. Only a song Only a song"  
  
"It's about a magical creature in the woods of central Europe, and the shepherd has fallen in love with her. The Merry Widow, who is from a tiny Central European state, sings this folk song to her guests while in France. Franz Lehar wrote the music. Lorenz Hart wrote these lyrics for an old film. The original song lyrics are probably different. The movies always distorted the original, for various reasons."  
  
"Well, Marguerite doesn't disapprove," noted Severus. He was watching how Rose held the baby, and thought of various Madonna and Child paintings he had seen. She was a natural, to be sure. Well, there was more than one way to give her another chance at motherhood, if she wished.  
  
"That was beautiful, Rose," said Fleur, as she returned to the parlor. "I 'ave not heard that song for many years."  
  
Rose blushed. She had the sinking suspicion that the folk tale lived before her. "Do you want your daughter back?" she asked wistfully.  
  
"When she wakes up. You can hold her until then," Fleur smiled.  
  
Dinner was merry and the food delicious. Half of the dinner conversation went right over Rose's head, but she enjoyed the festive atmosphere. Fortunately Arthur Weasley seemed to have completely forgotten the Halloween dance incident. Business matters were not discussed at the table, nor wedding plans. Harry Potter showed up just before dinner in the company of yet another Weasley, Ronald by name. Both were fine, handsome young men. Rose would never have dreamed that the modern equivalent of a mythic hero would be sitting across the table from her. He seemed polite, a bit shy, and just plain ordinary. The Weasley twins, Fred and George, did not seem dangerous, as all the tales Dobby had told her implied. Nobody was performing any feats of magic at the dinner table, either, so Rose felt unexceptional.  
  
After dinner, and an hour of conversation, Severus made their excuses. "Rose is still recovering from recent events. Thank you, Molly, for a delightful evening. Your cooking is superb as ever."  
  
"It is much easier to cook at home, I must admit. Thank you both for coming. It was a pleasure meeting you, Rose." Molly was clasping Rose's hand warmly. "You can send letters to the Burrow anytime."  
  
"Albus tells me you are wrapping up the project, Severus," said Arthur Weasley. "After I've seen the reports, there may be some follow-up work, if you are interested."  
  
"We shall have to see. I have a full schedule ahead next term." Severus was going to have a honeymoon, or know the reason why. 


	29. Chapter 29: That's All, Folks!

Chapter 29: That's All, Folks!  
  
Professor Snape is on his way to a new life, and preoccupied with domestic arrangements. He and I are both grateful for your attention and gracious comments.  
  
Short of writing a novel the length of JK Rowling's, there is no way I could pursue every loose end in this work. If the demand exists, or inspiration strikes, there may be some additional storytelling at a future date. I've always thought Hagrid should be encouraged to complete his education, with a new wand and all the privileges pertaining thereto..  
  
Karen Detroit from(well, you probably guessed) 


End file.
